


a thousand dreams within me softly burn

by allandnothing



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Protective Dave, Protective Klaus, Slow Burn, Unnecessarily long, because I'm gay and sad, closeted dave, it's toned down but still there so if it's triggering for you thread carefully, no beta we die like ben, no powers, q-word, so are some OCs, the Hargreeves siblings are there, unashamedly queer Klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allandnothing/pseuds/allandnothing
Summary: “So, what are you in for?”Dave kept himself from chuckling at the odd way he phrased the question, it was the principal’s office after all, “Oh, nothing much, I just need them to sign this for my internship credits,” he waved the paper around, amused in finding the guy’s eyes following its movements like a cat, “What about you?”He shrugged good-naturedly, “Stabbed a dude with a pencil.”Dave nodded, matching the guy’s nonchalant attitude, “We lead very different lives, you and I.”He's a closeted gay quarterback, he's so loud and proud you could spot him a mile away. Can I make it any more obvious?
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 55
Kudos: 381





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of fun facts about me: I have no idea how the american school system works, I have no idea what’s the difference between football and rugby, and I am gay and sad and wrote this to vent with no real purpose or plan. enjoy.

The guy was downright bizarre. There was no other way to describe it. In fact, he was so bizarre that Dave was forced to do a double-take, stopping in the middle of the threshold like a dumbass, one hand still on the handle and the other holding his internship module like it held the key to his future (it did).

He was like nobody he had ever met so far in his college life, and he was certain of that because he knew there was no way he could ever forget walking across someone like _that_. The guy’s leather pants- honest to god leather, he couldn’t make it up even if he tried- were ripped at the sides, exposing an absurd amount of fair skin from hip to ankle, and the tank top that accompanied it wasn’t much better, he doubted it even passed the requirements to be classified as an actual piece of clothing, given the gaping hole it opened on the sides of his chest. Add it to his messy hair and eyeliner rimmed eyes, and he was everything that Dave- clean-faced and impeccable Dave- was sure he could never be even if he put effort into it.

It was exhilarating.

The guy seemed to finally notice him looming, just standing there and looking at him like a jackass, and when his curious green eyes met his Dave moved, closing the door behind him and finding his seat in the hallway, just opposite of the guy. He gave Dave a little nod of acknowledgement, almost hilarious in its sobriety. He gave it back.

“So, what are you in for?”

Dave kept himself from chuckling at the odd way he phrased the question, it was the principal’s office after all, “Oh, nothing much, I just need them to sign this for my internship credits,” he waved the paper around, amused in finding the guy’s eyes following its movements like a cat, “What about you?”

He shrugged good-naturedly, “Stabbed a dude with a pencil.”

Dave nodded, matching the guy’s nonchalant attitude, “We lead very different lives, you and I.”

The guy agreed, but before he could add more the principal called him in, looking sterner than Dave had ever had the chance to see him, and after the guy gave a quick nod in his direction he was gone.

A bizarre guy indeed.

* * *

He wasn’t sure if he could say that the guy had made an impression, but what was certain was that for the following few days he found himself thinking back to him, to his odd demeanour, and his even odder style. He didn’t look for him all around campus per se, but he surely kept an eye out.

He tried not to, but he really couldn’t help himself whenever he casually scanned the hallways, looking for that peculiar mop of messy hair, or when he walked all across the university’s library, telling himself that he was doing so because he liked the seats at the very back and _not_ because he was wishing he could find him sitting somewhere there, thank you very much.

As luck had it, he didn’t have to wait much longer, because a week or so after their first infamous encounter he finally got a glimpse of him again in all his bizarre glory.

His clothes were even weirder this time around, if possible. He was wearing a leather jacket that badly hid the crop top he had under (was that even allowed by the dress code? He doubted the guy cared either way) and along with it- and here Dave nearly chocked on his salad, earning himself a half concerned look from Rivers- he was sporting a long black skirt. An actual skirt.

If he hadn’t captured Dave’s attention the first time he certainly had it now.

“Incoming,” Chaz muttered without looking up from his pasta as the guy casually made his way all across the cafeteria towards the lunch ladies, seemingly unaware of the eyes all trained on him. And how many those were, Dave realized with an odd sense of dread that rudely burst the bubble of curiosity he had been cocooning in. Almost every single person in the room was sizing him up, whispering with their coursemates and exchanging knowing looks, and he could immediately tell that it wasn’t the same interest that Dave had that had caused that reaction.

The guys around his table were part of the staring mass, too, and when Rivers chuckled at Chaz’s comment he mournfully went back to his salad, shaking the feeling off, “What inside joke am I missing here?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Katz,” Rivers cooed at him the same way one would with a cute dog, “You’re too kind for it.”

If the joke consisted in making fun of the odd guy defying gender norms then, yeah, Dave sure was grateful he couldn’t relate.

Chaz seemed to sense his now gloomy mood because he glanced up. He tried to school his features into a more neutral expression- as much as he wanted to defend the odd guy he wasn’t ready to explain _why_ , “That’s one of the Hargreeves kids,” he gently explained, and a bell went off in Dave’s head.

He knew that name. Everyone in town did. The eldest Hargreeves used to be one of the most influential men around, and his children all went to their university. He was also certain that he shared his history of economics class with one of the girls, he simply had no idea such a family could produce someone like _that_.

Before he could ponder it any further Chaz continued, with the tact that characterized him, “And he’s also the gayest kid to ever walk this campus.”

_Oh. Right._

Chaz added something else, something that made the other guys at the table laugh like a bunch of hyenas- because gay people are _so_ hilarious- but that Dave didn’t remotely register, his brain too busy whirling with a mix of panic and understanding.

_So that’s why he made such an impression_ , he thought to himself, angrily stabbing the salad in front of him as if it had personally offended him, _Kind of a lame way to figure out you have a working gaydar, Katz_.

The other guys were still snickering, shooting occasional glances at the Hargreeves kid now busy choosing between a cup of pudding or a slice of pie, and Dave tried to school his features as much as physically possible, lest they realize how much his stomach was currently clenching uncomfortably. That’s just how life was for ol’ closeted him. He found some friends. Those friends made occasional homophobic jokes. He tried to suppress the sudden urge to punch said friends in the throat- because, as he said, closeted. And he definitely, _definitely_ , didn’t make friends with odd evidently not straight guys, regardless of how interesting they might seem. 

Because, as middle school had oh so gently taught him, people will figure out you’re gay much quicker if you stick with others like you. And he _really_ doesn’t need a repeat of middle school.

The guy in question started walking towards the tables with the quick pace of someone who already had a place to sit, and as he walked past them in his battled heeled combat boots (and wasn’t that just the nail on the big gay coffin that was his life?) he made eye contact with him, quick recognition dancing in his eyes, before he _winked_ at him.

An odd, evidently not straight, interesting, and painfully cute guy.

He stabbed the salad with more fervour. It was going to be a long semester.

* * *

As much as the guy had piqued his interest and the mere thought of him kept nagging him, Dave decided that after the cafeteria revelation it would be better to just stop thinking about him and stop hoping to bump into him again. Not only was he from one of the most influential families in town, and that was a whole deal to unpack right there, but being obviously not straight made him stand out to everyone else on campus, and if Dave started hanging out with him it wouldn’t take much longer before they started questioning the reason behind the improbable friendship.

Some might call it overthinking, his therapist would probably classify it as internalized homophobia or some other fancy term he liked to bring on the table from time to time (it was _not_ , Doctor Nesbaum, thank you very much) but really, it was just self-preservation.

It also had something to do with the fact that having been closeted his whole life meant that Dave had a whole side of his identity that he had never openly addressed and that sent him on edge to even think about it coming out (haha) on the surface if he ever managed to become friend with another queer kid, but he tried not to think about that small detail.

Apparently, the universe decided that this approach was utter bullshit and took matters into its own hands one Thursday afternoon, just as Dave was wandering down the campus hallways, weary but happy after a particularly tiring session of football practice.

He was innocently listening to his after workout playlist- something much calmer and more indie rock-y than his pre-workout playlist- when someone shouted, loud enough to break through the calm and comfort of his earbuds. He took one out, his responsibility as one of the members of the students' council nudging him to check that everything was okay and nobody was in trouble and yep, that was definitely a fight he could hear.

Silencing Of Monsters and Men with a defeated sigh, he quickened his pace, and as he rounded a corner in the vague direction the voices he found their source with an even more defeated sigh, if possible.

Two groups of people were facing one another, obviously in the midst of what seemed to be some sort of fight, and as his eyes quickly scanned over them he made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he recognized the Hargreeves guy. He looked kind of battled, an ugly red bruise marking the side of his face, and from the looks of it, it was fresh too. Just one glance at the guys in front of him, rough and mean-looking, everything about them screaming _entitled assholes,_ was enough to find the culprit of it too.

“Alright, what the hell is going on here,” Dave stepped forward to stop the fight from escalating any further, and everyone quieted down in surprise. He was relieved to see that the guy wasn’t alone, another student was standing by his side and looking fiercely protective of him too, but his relief was shortly-lived. The other guy was holding onto his arms to keep him back from attacking the other students, since he looked like he was ready to break their necks, and as much as Dave was sure they deserved it it wasn’t going to do any good.

One of the mean-looking guys made a half snarl in his direction, trying to look cool and intimidating, but that ended up looking like an asthmatic French bulldog, “Get lost, it’s none of your business.”

“Oh yeah? I believe it is,” Dave crossed his arms, not bothered to let the valedictorian-like facade sweep through. As much as it made him look like a teacher’s pet, throwing his weight around did wonders to get rid of assholes like them, “You better be the one to get lost, unless you plan on paying a visit to the principal.”

The French bulldog rolled his eyes and one of his mates elbowed him in the side, muttering something about _school council_ and _we should go_. Dave almost thought that was it, but apparently, the bullies weren’t happy with how things were because just as they turned around one of them hissed, in a loud enough tone to be heard, “Fucking faggot.”

The unnamed guy lashed out, quicker than the guy holding him could have reacted to, but still slow enough for Dave to fully register. He didn’t step in right away, though, letting him punch the guy right in the face with a loud pop before he broke them apart. Responsibility was one thing, the satisfaction of seeing a homophobe getting hit in the face was another.

“Say that again, I dare you,” he growled, not putting much of a fight against Dave while his friend snickered behind him. The other guy was too busy spitting out a bit of blood to even try.

“Alright, I think we’re even now,” Dave announced, one hand holding the guy back and the other outstretched towards the now bloody student, “Everyone, get out of here before I have to drag your asses out myself.”

Reluctantly, the guys staggered away, probably too surprised to put up much of a fight. They made sure to glare at the three of them, the bruised guy especially, and as he waved at them with mock cheerfulness they walked off, mumbling unhappily.

Dave breathed out a sigh of relief, turning towards the other two to assess the situation. He let go of the unnamed guy, who looked unhappy but intact, apart from a huge scar running on the side of his face that looked too old to be related to the fight, while the other one was frowning in pain, the bruise on the side of his cheek already swelling up. He seemed to tense under his gaze, as if he, too, was aware they already knew each other in a way, “You okay?”

The guy shrugged, good-naturedly, his eyes still on him, “I’ve had worse.”

His friend huffed, not happy with the dismissive reply, “I can’t believe they’re getting away with it,” he seemed ready to run after the other guys and Dave tenses warily. He wasn’t looking forward to holding him back again, “They can’t just say shit like that, we have to do something.”

“You could do something, but considering that you punched one of them enough to almost break his nose you would end up in trouble too,” Dave gently explained, not liking the idea of those assholes walking away unpunished either. The guy sized him up, and for a second he thought he was going to chew him out, but his expression was soft- it was an odd mix with his sharp features.

“Thank you for stepping in, I would have beaten them into a pulp if given the occasion, and that would have been a mess,” he sighed, as if that was just a possibility to be taken into consideration. The guy next to him pulled out his phone and opened the front camera, assessing the damage on his cheek, “I’m Diego, by the way, and this is my brother, Klaus.”

He didn’t know what the Hargreeves did, exactly, but he certainly hadn’t expected them to be gay and/or picking fights with people in their free time.

“Dave,” he nodded, then eyed Klaus concernedly as he gingerly touched his jaw, hissing in pain, “You should get that checked, the infirmary is just down the hallway.”

Diego followed his line of sight, even more concerned than him, “Want to get yourself patched up?”

His brother closed his phone defeatedly. It was odd to see him so, well, beaten, compared to the few glances of the confident bizarre guy Dave had gotten, “What I want right now is a milkshake.”

The other guy nodded, then turned to Dave, “Want to come along? You did help us after all.”

Dave looked at Klaus again, and something familiar in his chest clenched. The tug that had made him look for him all over campus for a week was back and was now begging him to please say yes and find out more about the peculiar guy. He met his eyes and he knew he was screwed.

“Sure, why not.”

* * *

They steered clear of the university cafeteria, the two brothers still wary after the impromptu fight and not ready to face any more assholes that afternoon, and they instead headed out of the campus, towards a small donut shop Dave had never even realized existed.

The owner of the shop, a tiny middle-aged lady that made Dave’s heart clench suddenly and unexpectedly with how soft and fragile she seemed, gave Klaus a sympathetic look, eyeing the bruise with a lovingly concerned gaze before she had them all seated with the promise of bringing them some milkshake and a bag of ice for Klaus.

The three of them sat together at the table, the two brothers on a booth and Dave and his football bag on the other, and before he could feel awkward about the situation and wonder why, exactly, he went and decided to hang out with two guys he didn’t even know, Diego started going off on a rant about what had just happened, not even giving his anxious brain time to worry about it. 

“ _MacMillan_ ,” he spat out, nodding at the tiny lady as she handed Klaus a bag of ice along with their order. The guy immediately pressed it to his visibly aching cheek, breathing out a sigh of relief, “Dude sounds like he’s from a John Mulaney skit and he has the nerve to be an asshole."

He didn’t really need to take part into the conversation, Diego was happy to carry it on himself, so he soon found himself humming and nodding to fill in the eventual silences, his eyes wandering to Klaus. He seemed somewhat defeated, toying with his milkshake’s straw with only one eye open, the other still pressed under the bag of ice. When he sensed him staring he looked up- not accusingly or irritatingly, just simply looking- and Dave immediately glanced away, trying not to blush. He met one gay guy and suddenly he was acting like a stupid teenager who didn’t know how to handle his feelings (he wasn’t, as a matter of fact, he was a 23-years old who didn’t know how to handle his feelings).

“You should drink that,” Klaus pointed at his milkshake, interrupting Diego mid monologue. He was smiling slightly, as if saying _I saw you staring, you weirdo, get yourself together_ , “It’s really good.”

Dave looked down, realizing that he hadn’t even touched his order, too busy thinking over what had happened and trying not to get a headache from Diego’s rambling, “No, yeah, sure, yes,” he shook his head, starting over, “I will. I was just- thinking back to those guys.”

He didn’t need to specify any further, Diego stepped in for him, “We should do something about it, you’re from the students' council, aren’t you? You could try and get them expelled.”

He sighed, toying with his milkshake and making it slide around his side of the table. Klaus’s eye followed the movement half-heartedly, “Believe me, I’ve tried. As unacceptable as it is they always somehow manage to get away with it, and all I’ve ever managed to get is the principal giving them a warning not to do it again and all that useless jazz. It’s ridiculous.”

Something changed in Klaus’s expression, he seemed to close off all of a sudden, but before he could even start to think how he could ask him about it Diego went off again, stealing his chance to speak up for at least another ten minutes.

He didn’t get to continue for much longer, though, because just as he was listing all the kind of delightful things the MacMillan guy and his friends were- ranging from assholes to something that had puta in it and that Dave didn't fully catch- his phone dinged with a notification. He pulled it out, glancing at it quickly, and his eyes lit up.

“Patch asked me to go pick her up from work, I gotta go,” he pocketed his phone then paused, as though realizing he was in the middle of a conversation with two other people. He smiled sheepishly, first at Dave then at his brother, “Sorry, it’s the lady’s orders. Wanna come along with me, Klaus? We might go out to eat later.”

Klaus snorted, taking a sip of his milkshake. From what he had heard of his order it had an ungodly amount of chocolate in it, “And be the third wheel? Pass.”

Diego apologized again for disappearing on them so suddenly, and Dave just shrugged at him with a smile- they had just met, who was he to be offended over that- and after he picked up his milkshake and waved at the tiny lady he was gone, a quick cheerful pace steering him forward.

Which left Dave alone with Klaus. Klaus who was now sizing him up with a tired eye over his own milkshake.

Dave cleared his throat, his previous awkwardness now rising up to the surface again. Why was he there, again?

“I’m sorry for what happened,” he found himself saying, confused by his own utterance. He just had no idea what to do with himself in front of someone so open and confident like Klaus, regardless of how small and wary he now looked. Apparently making a fool of himself was his brain’s preferred defence mechanism.

Klaus shrugged, taking another sip of his milkshake, “Eh, it happens. I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve mentioned,” Dave frowned. Setting his milkshake aside for a moment he leaned forward on his elbows, enough to talk to Klaus in a low tone and still be heard. The sudden closeness seemed to startle the guy because he glanced up at him and Dave leaned slightly back by instinct, “Listen, I don’t know how much help I can be but if someone ever bothers you again you can come to me,” he told him quietly, almost conspiratorially. He didn’t let himself feel embarrassed for using his role as a student council member for his own- or well, Klaus’s- personal gain. What was even the point of it if he couldn't help fellow students?

The cloudy expression from before came back in full force at that and Dave leaned further back, confused. Was it out of line to offer help to Klaus? He had no idea how to handle the situation, having been lucky enough to never experience it.

“Listen, Dave,” Klaus cleared his throat, reaching out with his free hand to pat Dave’s arm amiably. The touch was so sudden and unexpected that Dave, dumbass that he was, involuntarily flinched at it, but before he could regret it Klaus drew his hand back, hiding it under the table, his frown deepening, “I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t need your help.”

“It wouldn't be a problem,” he reassured him, thinking that was the issue Klaus had with his idea, “It’s kind of part of my job, actually.”

“I know, I just,” Klaus ran his free hand over his face, evidently exhausted, both by the day’s events and the conversation, “I don’t want your pity. Take it in the best way possible, but I really don’t want some,” he made a vague gesture towards him, indicating all of him, bag included, with a pained expression, “Righteous straight guy to fuss over the poor bullied queer kid. I don’t want that kind of sympathy.”

Dave’s jaw almost fell down at that. Did Klaus really think he only wanted to help because he felt morally obliged to?

Before he could deny that, his brain caught up with the rest of Klaus’s sentence, and it did a double flip, “I-“, he glanced around the cafeteria, checking if anyone from their university was within earshot. It was just him and Klaus. Ah, fuck it, “I’m not.”

For a moment they were both silent as Klaus elaborated that implication. He sat there for a few seconds, still frowning at him. Then, his expression slowly cleared, like the sun coming out after a stormy morning, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when the shoe dropped.

He lifted the bag of ice from his face revealing an ugly purple bruise underneath. The cloudy expression from before had completely disappeared, and he was now openly looking at him- none of the side glances and awkward meeting of eyes from before, he was full-on staring, “Oh.”

Dave fidgeted under Klaus’s gaze. It was the first time he had ever said it out loud.

“Oh indeed.”

The silence stretched on for a good minute or so, Klaus just checking him out like it was the first time he had ever seen him. Then, he smiled, something soft and understanding but still with an underlying trace of mischief, “You should really drink that milkshake now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, shuffling the cup over to him, aware of his flaming face and of Klaus’s curious eyes still on him. It was as good as he had promised.

* * *

After that, the two of them somehow forged an improbable friendship. Dave was still lost as to how that happened, one day he knew nothing about the guy, the next he was coming out to him like it was just the most natural and logical thing to do, but he didn’t want to risk and doubt his luck. He took what he could get.

Their conversation and the revelation that had followed it seemed to arouse some new interest in Klaus, let it be because Dave seemed to be the only other queer kid on campus and he needed to connect with someone, or maybe- and here Dave let himself hope- because he had always wanted to know more about him and now he found a common ground to satisfy that curiosity, either way, what was sure was that the Hargreeves kid went from glancing at him like one would do with a mean-looking dog to hanging around him every time he got the chance to.

This was one of those times. Dave had just finished his lessons for the morning and was kind of dozing off in the shade of a nice maple tree on campus- it was still warm enough to lay on the grass without risking getting frostbite, and the way the sun was gently caressing his skin was downright luxurious- when someone walked up and kneeled beside him, looming over him just at the right angle to cover the sun.

He looked up, annoyed, and was surprised to see Klaus, staring right back at him with a lazy smirk on his face, “What are you listening to?”

Dave turned off his music, sitting up to regard his unexpected but not unwelcome guest, “Was,” he gently corrected, annoyance leaving space for a soft smile. It had just been over a few days after their conversation at the cafeteria and Klaus sitting next to him at random times just to strike up a conversation was starting to become a habit for him, and he quite loved it, “It was classical music, actually. Einaudi.”

“Nerd,” Klaus huffed, not needing any more clarification to state his opinion on the matter. He let his legs stretch out in front of him with a satisfied sigh, letting his head fall back towards the sky with a small smile, just like a lizard basking in the sun. His still healing purple bruise didn’t look as bad under the sunlight. Dave immediately mimicked him, enjoying the last rays of sun before autumn settled in, “You’re full of surprised, Dave. I never would have imagined you being like this, and I usually always guess right.”

He glanced at him, but Klaus was still looking up at the sky, his eyes closed, “What do you mean?”

He did meet his eyes then, and smiled again. He did that so often and so naturally, it almost seemed like it was his resting face, “You’re a quarterback, aren’t you?” he reached one hand out, squeezing his arms muscles playfully, and Dave tensed up involuntarily. Klaus politely ignored it, then ignored when Dave frowned at himself. The American school system had really fucked him up good if now even a simple touch sent him on edge, “You’re usually pretty pragmatic guys, the bunch of you. I never would have expected you to be so sensible, let alone g-“ some student passed by them and Dave tensed even more, ready to cover Klaus’s mouth with his hands, but the guy seemed to be on the same page as him, “-greatly interested in classical music,” he threw a sheepish look in his direction, as if apologizing but also reassuring him that he had his back, which Dave appreciated, “It’s such an odd combination I didn’t even read into it myself.”

Dave shrugged, not really knowing what to say to that, “I like football, and my family has always been enthusiastic about it too. I, er-“ he coughed, looking down, “I have also been liking classical music for quite a long time, I just realized that it was best to just keep it for myself.”

Klaus’s gaze turned sad as if he was trying to sympathize with that, but he knew he couldn't. He had probably been out for his whole life if the way he acted talked and walked were any indication, and probably never felt so ashamed to remain in the closet the way Dave had, preferring his own safety over his comfort. They couldn't have been any more different.

“As you might have noticed, I also like classical music,” Klaus smirked, evidently enjoying the metaphor more than he should be, “I actually like all genres, really, no preference there. Rock, pop, soul, rap, you name it. But if you want someone to, y’know,” he leaned back again on his arms, everything about him screaming Cheshire cat, “Talk about classical music, I can definitely relate.”

Dave smiled, avoiding Klaus’s gaze when it became too much. A leaf slowly fell down from the tree above them and it watched it go, “I’d like that."

* * *

It was sad, in a way, that he managed to find a place of comfort in someone who until then had been a total stranger to him. He tried not to think about it, but he was painfully aware that there was something intrinsically wrong if he felt more comfortable and free around a guy who had been his friend for a little over a couple of weeks than he did with his actual family or best friends.

The fact that both of them were queer definitely helped. He had no idea how much he had been missing, hiding in the shadows, afraid that everyone could guess what he was and call him out on it, but now that he had someone to be unashamedly, well, gay with, it was honestly exhilarating. It didn’t come naturally, it was a whole new side of his personality that he had never gotten the chance to explore or even let breathe outside of his own mind, but Klaus didn’t judge him, rather nodding in approval whenever he saw or heard him do something that was the polar opposite of his straight-faced attitude he had adopted into his identity until then.

“Opinions on Miller?” he whispered one day, sitting down next to Klaus in their designed spot in the library. They had taken to doing homework together, Klaus because he needed some help in literature, Dave because he enjoyed Klaus’s presence, but more often than not they ended up goofing around, talking about nothing and all- boys in some cases, when Dave felt brave enough- until one of the librarians wandered over to warn them to either get back to work or vacate the place.

Klaus completely forgot about the passage he was reading, preferring to fully turn to him with wide eyes, “ _Dude_ ,” he half-whispered, louder than entirely acceptable in a place of study, “Where the fuck have you been all my life?"

He chuckled, then quieted down when one of the other students hissed at them to, _shut up, bro, I got a midterm on Tuesday_. They didn’t get to draw the conversation any further, but if Klaus’s look was any guess he felt exactly like he did about the Miller guy.

“One might say that he brings the Rimbaud out of me,” he said, his eyebrows comically high. Dave snorted, pushing him back towards his textbooks.

“Get back to study, you idiot.”

Of course, the amount of time he spent with Klaus was eventually going to raise some eyebrows in his group of friends. They never had any problem showing their evident confusion whenever he mentioned going out with Klaus to study, as though the mere idea was fully incomprehensible for them, and their eyebrows seemed to get higher and higher each time. It was amusing, but also slightly concerning for his skittish rabbit brain.

Chaz seemed to be the most stubborn of them all, let it be because he was the closest to him, or because he was annoyingly nosy.

“What’s up with you and Hargreeves?”

Dave didn’t look up from his book, too busy with what Angela Davis was saying to pay proper attention, “Which one?”

Chaz huffed, “The weird one.”

“Again, which one?”

Chaz only huffed more loudly. He stood up, making his way towards Dave, and when he got there he tried to push his feet off the table to get him to budge. He didn’t manage to, but Dave did glance up at him with a frown.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he said, as if it needed to be clarified, and Dave tried not to laugh. Straight guys were just something else, and it definitely was not just Klaus’s influence that made him feel so itchy whenever they said some stuff like _that_ , “I just worry, you know? Don’t want some asshole picking fights with you just because you hang out with the queer kid.”

“Yes, Chaz,” he said slowly, as though explaining something particularly easy to a particularly thick kid, trying not to let his tone give himself away. He was so tired of everything and everyone lately, why couldn’t he just be who he was and be friends with who he wanted? Jesus, “Some lanky freshman with a narcissistic complex is going to pick a fight with the six feet tall quarterback.”

Chaz was silent for quite a while, and Dave went back to his book, thinking that that was it. Before he could proclaim it a victory, though, he saw his friend glance around from the corner of his eye, then lean forward and closer to him.

“Are you gay?” he whispered, and Dave’s blood pressure went through the roof.

It would be just so easy to tell him the truth, to tell him that, yeah, as a matter of fact, he was. This was Chaz, after all, one of his best friends. The only one of their group that he had known since kindergarten. They basically grew up together. He would accept him no problem, and he would no doubt try to beat up any homophobe for the sake of their friendship because that was the kind of person he was. It would be fine.

Right?

Dave glanced at him, and the tiny layer of concern and apprehension he saw in his eyes broke his heart, “Are you jealous of Klaus, Chaz? I can do homework with you, too, if you want.”

Chaz pushed at his legs again with a barked laugh, this time managing to make him slip off the table, “Fuck off, Katz."

He flipped him off in return and went back to his book. In moments like this, he wished he could be with Klaus all day long, and never have to face reality.

* * *

It wasn't long before he noticed the scars. It was still warm out, after all, so Klaus had been going around with crop tops and tank tops as much as the weather allowed him, and it was therefore inevitable for Dave to see them, sooner or later.

Tiny small cuts smattered the inside of his forearms, the crook of his elbow in particular. They were too small and their pattern too specific to be caused by self-harming, which made Dave breathe out a sigh of relief, but his heart kept on beating faster and faster as it slowly realized how Klaus might have gotten them.

By the time Klaus realized he was staring he had figured it out, and he immediately looked away, feeling like he had overstepped a line. His friend didn't cover his arms, though. Slowly and deliberately, he held them out for Dave, bridging the distance across their desk and over their textbooks with a soft and paradoxically apologetic smile. The track marks stood there for him to pry on as much as he wanted, and he suddenly felt a surprising wave of protective instinct wash over him at how naked Klaus seemed to be in front of him, and now he just wished to take the smaller guy in his arms and make sure nothing bad ever happened to him again.

“I’m okay now,” he reassured him, running a finger over the biggest one of the scars, his touch so careless it seemed like he was angry at himself, “Have been for a while, thanks to my siblings, but it’s still sad to see the results of it."

Dave didn’t know what to say. Apologizing seemed useless now, and trying to sympathize was probably even worse. What he did, instead, was take one of his pens, uncap it, and reach over to Klaus’s left arm. He drew over one of the scars there, turning it into a small blue flower, then smiled sheepishly as he retreated his hand. Klaus beamed at him as if he had just given him the sun, and silently they both went back to their homework.

He memorized the number of scars and made sure to check that it remained unchanged.

* * *

By the time October started rolling in, Klaus seemed to have developed a newfound love for football. It started with him meeting Dave after his practice, offering to take him out for a milkshake, and it slowly turned into him sitting down with a book and just lazily watching the whole practice from the stands, evidently content with himself and the world.

“What can I say, I like big burly guys running around in tight pants,” he shrugged when he pointed it out to him, sipping on a caprisun the same way one would smoke a cigarette. Dave laughed, too close to the football field to reply the way he would want to.

“I can give you their number if you like,” he settled on, moving his bag on his other shoulder with a sigh. Klaus started doing something weird with his legs, measuring each stride, and it didn’t take long to figure out he was trying to match their steps, “Just tell me the guy, and I will hook you up.”

“Who said anything about them?” Klaus replied, then honest to god winked at him like it was the most natural thing to do. Dave had to fake a cough to get rid of the sudden blush that made its way around his face and neck. How could he become so flustered over his friend's playful flirting? Jesus, he was a mess.

Fortunately, by the time he reached the field he had regained some sort of composure, gay panic now behind him. Klaus found his favourite spot on the stands and let himself dramatically fall down on it, somehow ending up in a semi-composed cross-legged position. He pulled out his book, and there was just enough light for Dave to catch the title. It was a little blue book titled _Homo-sexual life_. He laughed and left him to it.

Practice went fairly well, although Dave had to keep himself back from glancing at Klaus on the stands every chance he got. He caught himself searching for his gaze during their free throws, as if his subconscious wanted to make sure he was watching like a little kid wanting their parent’s attention when doing some cool new trick they learned, and shook his head at himself. How could the guy be such a distraction even when he did absolutely nothing? It was absurd.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had been distracted by Klaus’s presence. Just as they were wrapping it all up, heading for the changing rooms to get out of their now drenched clothes, he heard someone huff behind him, annoyed, and evidently trying to attract everyone’s attention. He didn’t bother to turn around, deciding to focus on getting his shoes off instead, but the other guy didn’t need any further prompting.

“What even is that freak doing there?” Peterson’s voice boomed out, as low and oozing testosterone as always. Dave tensed involuntarily, trying not to react to the obvious jab- everyone on the team knew he and Klaus were friends by now, it was just a dick move to make a comment like that.

Surprising him, Chaz stepped in, throwing him a quick look before sizing Peterson up with an evaluating glare, “He’s just sitting, how does that even bother you?”

Peterson shot daggers at him. He had stopped undressing, preferring to just stand there like an idiot and try to get everyone else in the room as riled up as he obviously was. Nobody seemed to pay him much attention, “I just don’t like him looking at me, alright? Who knows what’s passing through that, that queer mind of his."

_Definitely nothing worse than what’s passing through yours when you sit down to watch the cheerleaders practice_ , Dave thought, bitterly. Unclenching his jaw, he tried to ignore the way Peterson had spat the word out with such malice. It was odd how much words could change depending on who was using them, the same term coming from Klaus always sounded almost endearing. 

“Who says he’s looking at you?” he decided to settle on, preferring to play Klaus’s game instead of explaining exactly how much Peterson was getting on his nerves right then.

His comment seemed to surprise Peterson because he opened and closed his mouth for a moment, trying to come out with a quick and smart reply. Before he could, though, Rivers jumped in, now shirtless and flexing playfully, “That’s right! It’s _me_ he’s looking at!”

Somehow, his comment seemed to start some sort of competition between the guys, because before he knew it a good chunk of them were now comparing their muscles, trying to gauge who would be the most good looking in the eyes of a gay guy.

“Are you out of your _mind_?” Chaz practically yelped when another guy dared to point out that he had too much belly to be, as he quoted, appetible, “Gays love that shit! You’re just jealous the Hargreeves dude was obviously looking at me and not you.”

Dave had no idea how any of that even happened but what was sure was that Peterson had left as soon as the conversation started, obviously annoyed by everyone in the room, and Chaz was now smiling at him as if telling him he had his back in defending his friend. Oh, if only he knew.

Heaving his bag up on his shoulder, he headed out towards the field, the cold breeze of the evening welcoming him suddenly and quite rudely. He snuggled himself better under his jacket, blowing hot breath into its collar and pressing it against his neck with a sigh as he scanned the seats for Klaus. 

He found him exactly where he had left him, now done with his book and lazily looking off into the distance at the night sky. When he heard him approach he looked up, an easy smile already on his lips. Heart still beating slightly from the missed call in the changing rooms, he smiled back. 

“Did something happen?” he asked, closing his book to reach into his bag. He pulled out a scarf, surprisingly mild and non-feathery nor violently pink for something coming from Klaus’s bag, and stood up on the stand to reach Dave’s neck, “I saw some guy storm out of there, he didn’t seem too happy.”

Dave couldn’t help but smile as Klaus wrapped the scarf around his neck, making sure to cover every inch of his sweaty throat like some sort of mother hen. It smelled strongly of him, but he tried not to think about it too much, “Nothing, he was just upset you didn’t want his number. It really broke him.”

Klaus clicked his tongue, patting his jacket lapels once he was done with the scarf, “Can’t look this good without breaking a few hearts, darling.”

* * *

Being friends with Klaus inevitably meant that at some point Dave also became friends with his siblings. All of them.

He already knew Diego, of course- how could he ever forget him- and although he seemed kind of suspicious of Dave when he first learned about their friendship he had easily warmed up to him. Apparently, he hadn’t fully grasped why the two of them had become friends, which was fully understandable since not even Dave nor Klaus knew it themselves, but he soon seemed to realize that Dave had no bad intentions and quit the defensive act fairly soon. He wondered whether Klaus had informed his brother about what had made them connect immediately, and was surprised to find himself not too worried about the thought- he just trusted Klaus and his judgment.

Then there was Ben. Ben seemed to be almost a shadow to Klaus, always following him around whenever he wasn’t in class, and he only seemed to vacate his place when Dave was around. He never seemed to be bothered by his presence per se- he doubted the kid could be bothered about anything ever, he was a delight to be around- but his absence whenever Dave and Klaus were together started to become concerning for Dave to the point that he just decided to ask one day when he found the two brothers together.

“And be the third wheel? No way, man,” Ben had just huffed, shrugging with a little grin, and before Dave could reassure him that he really didn’t mind his presence but rather enjoyed it, Klaus reached over to smack him on the back of his head. Any sort of conversation was drowned by the two siblings play fighting.

At one point, Klaus seemed to decide that Dave needed to meet all of the Hargreeves and that the best way to do it was, and here Dave literally choked on his water, by having him sleep over at his house.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Klaus muttered, slapping Dave on his back to stop him from drowning in the little bit of water he found himself struggling over. Dave shook his head, trying to regain his composure.

“No, no, I do, I-“ he swallowed, then regarded his friend with a closer eye. Had he not known him enough he would have probably missed the way his eyes had slightly clouded over with apprehension. He smiled, ready to reassure him, “I do want to, really. I just… wouldn’t be able to return the gesture.”

It wasn’t a lie per se. There was something about the thought of going over to Klaus’s house, to eat there, to sleep there, that made him uneasy. He wasn’t sure what it was, and was determined to put his finger on it, but it just seemed almost too intimate for him. Too domestic. Like some part of Klaus he wanted to know more about but still felt like he was overstepping a boundary in pursuing it.

On the other hand, though, it was true that he wouldn’t be able to have Klaus sleep over at his house, in return. It wasn’t that his parents were intolerant or conservative, it wasn’t that, it was just that he was sure that if he brought someone like Klaus home, it wouldn’t take much more for his parents to make the connection as to how Dave had ended up befriending Klaus, and he wasn’t ready for that one revelation yet.

He told so to Klaus- personal reasons notwithstanding of course- and he just huffed in reply, “I can totally pass for straight, your parents wouldn’t suspect a thing.”

Dave didn’t reply. He just looked at Klaus’s eyeliner, his faded nail polish, his half unbuttoned shirt, his ripped leather pants, and his heeled boots, and let his eyes do the talking. His friend pushed at his shoulder, understanding the message.

“Do you want to come over or not?"

He very much did, and in about a few days, Klaus had everything organized. They decided to go over to his house one Friday so that they wouldn’t have to worry about lessons the next day, so once the day’s classes were over the two of them headed out of campus together.

It was odd for Dave, both because he had been living on campus for a few years now, so going to sleep to Klaus’s- who did not live on campus- was a pleasant deviation from his routine, both because he usually went out with Chaz on Friday night, just hanging out together, most of the time in their rooms, and him cancelling their usual plans seemed to confuse his friend too.

“You’re _sleeping_ at Hargreeves's?” he had half-whispered, as if it was a secret to be kept hidden from others, and had made a weird face when Dave had just nodded. He decided to not ponder on that expression- he liked to maintain some sort of mental stability by not wondering what kind of mental movie Chaz was making up lately.

It didn’t take long before they reached Klaus’s house, and when they did Dave had to do a double-take, mentally correcting himself. It wasn’t a house, it was a _mansion_.

“You live _here_?” he squealed, interrupting his friend’s ongoing chitter-chatter that had accompanied them on their walk until then. Klaus gave him an odd look as if _he_ was the weird one.

“My dad did, I just get to keep my stuff in there,” he shrugged, and Dave was suddenly and quite rudely reminded that regardless of how quirky and friendly and queer Klaus was he was still the son of one of the most powerful men to ever step foot in the city. A man that had been dead for a while, sure, but it was still a heavy heritage to have looming over them.

Hell, how did the Hargreeves go to the same college as him when that was what their house looked like?

Klaus seemed to sense his sudden concern because he softened slightly, offering him an encouraging little smile, the ones he usually reserved just for him, “Hey, it’s just me. You’ve met my family, we’re a bunch of losers. Don’t psych yourself up.”

“I’m not,” he lied, and they stepped in.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry. Although the house itself was _huge_ , the family itself wasn’t too different from the few glances and snippets he had learned of them, and it didn’t take long for him to fall right in place, all uneasiness and anxiety soon forgotten.

One sure thing, though, was how painfully supportive Klaus’s family was compared to his. The moment they stepped in it was clear that Klaus was just every single bit of his unashamedly queer self inside the house as he was outside, so it was no surprise when his mother immediately cooed over Dave when he introduced him, asking him in the sweetest motherly voice, “Is this your boyfriend, dear?”

What ensured was a scandalized ‘mum!’ from Klaus and a giggle from Diego and Ben, as well as a painful pang of longing in Dave’s gut. If he ever happened to bring home a friend there was no way in hell his family would ever assume there was even a remote possibility that he might feel some kind of romantic affection towards him- let it be true or not. The fact that Klaus’s family had no problem whatsoever teasing him about it just made him realize how much he was missing out with his own family.

He tried not to think about it, but it kept coming back. Klaus’s sister Vanya complimenting him on his eyeliner over dinner and him giving her a quick how-to tutorial for it, Allison trying to get his opinion on a new boy she had a crush on and subtly letting Dave join into the conversation if he felt like it, Diego asking them if the MacMiller guy ever bothered them again, Five- the only teen of the family, although he didn’t seem it- offering to beat him up if he did bother them again, Luther asking if Queer Eye was a show worth watching- everything screamed of _home_ and _safe_ and _care_ in a way that almost made him tear up.

He had spent his entire life hiding from his friends and family, tensing like a violin string whenever something even vaguely not straight was ever brought up in conversation, and to have a group of people just, legitimately not caring to know in certain terms who he was, just content to have him there for the moment, was almost overwhelming. He had never really understood what people meant when they mentioned _safe places_ , but, as he made his way to their bedroom along with Klaus, stairs creaking under each of their steps, he realized that was probably the closest he would ever get to one.

And ah, yes. Bedroom as in singular. The mansion looked big enough to hold at least a good couple of dozen of rooms, but Mrs Hargreeeves- she insisted he called her Grace but he felt physically obliged to keep some sort of formal boundary between the two of them- had said that since nobody ever used them they were all freezing cold, and it would just be better for him to sleep in Klaus’s bedroom.

He didn’t mind, and Klaus didn’t seem to mind either, so after he managed to repress the dumb part of his brain that gasped, _oh my god, they were roommates_ , he followed his friends up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

“It’s very… you,” he commented once he stepped in, admiring the fairy light illuminating the room in soft waves and the rainbow posters on the wall with an involuntary soft smile. Klaus laughed as he pulled out a mattress from under his bed, setting it up for him, battling his hand away when he went to help.

“Thank you. I was scared of the dark when I was a kid, still kinda am, and these helped,” he admitted, and Dave’s heart unexpectedly swelled with affection for the boy next to him, for how unashamed he was in admitting a fear that most would consider being childish- and honestly, how cute was that? He was such an emotive mess, “The old man told me I was being dumb, but mum fixed the problem with the lights,” he pulled the mattress up, setting it up as a second bed next to his, leaving just enough space between the two to walk, then patted it to asses his work with a little nod, “I can turn them off if they bother you.”

“Nah, I liked them. They’re very romantic,” he said without thinking, then blushed furiously once his brain caught up with his mouth, “In, er, the philosophical sense of the word.”

Klaus seemed to be blushing too, the tip of his ears just on the side of too pink, and weren’t they just the most stereotypical pair of gays? “Of course."

Odd slip notwithstanding, the night went great, and once they were both in bed, behind the safety of the closed door, they soon found themselves chatting and giggling like teenagers under the covers, just like at a real sleepover.

At one point, at around eleven, while they were animatedly talking about the last season of _Orange Is the New Black_ , a discussion Klaus had excitedly defined as ‘mlm and wlw solidarity, baby’, his friend rummaged through his bedside drawer, pulling out a small bottle of something that had Dave zero in on his hand, momentarily forgetting about Pennsatucky and whatever point he was trying to make.

When it was clear that he wasn’t going to resume his sentence Klaus glanced up at him, shaking the bottle from side to side with an inquisitive gaze, “You good there?”

“Is that nail polish?” he had no idea why the sight of the small black bottle had shaken him so. He had seen Klaus wear nail polish countless of times, going over all of the greys and blacks and dark greens. Logically, he knew he had to apply it at one point or another, but for some reason, his brain never made the connection.

“Uh, yeah,” Klaus drawled out, confused but amused by his reaction, “Do you want some?”

Before Dave could even reply to that, shaking his head with a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, Klaus cringed, evidently realizing his mistake, “That’s not a good idea, is it? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dave shrugged, thumbing the side of his comforter. That was just the umpteenth reminder that he was still not allowed to be his free self, trapped by what others expected him to be, and he tried to shake off the feeling, not wanting it to ruin his until then giddy mood, “Maybe one day.”

Klaus smiled sadly, then after a second handed him the bottle, “Care to do the honour?”

It took him a second to realize what Klaus meant by that but when he did he silently took the bottle in hand, holding it like it was the most precious and fragile thing in existence, “I, uh. I have no idea how to do that.” he tried to hide his excitement at the prospect but it was to no avail, Klaus was already rearranging himself on the bed.

“Nobody truly does.” he sat cross-legged directly in front of Dave, just the gap between the beds separating them, and he held his hands out for him, palms and their tattoos facing the floor.

“You’re gonna look so bad,” Dave _giggled_ , not even pretending to be ashamed by the sound he made. He’d be lying if he said he had never wanted to try nail polish, and this was probably the closest he was going to get to actually putting it on himself. Klaus seemed to share his excitement, wriggling his fingers at him until he set to work.

There was really no way to not hold his hand as he carefully started painting his nails, especially when he had never done it before and they weren’t sitting down at a desk, so he focuses what little part of his brain wasn’t occupied with nail polish on making sure he didn’t embarrass himself accidentally squeezing Klaus’s hand or sweating from his own palm.

As he made his way over his friend’s nails, Klaus gently guiding his hand when it started shaking, he felt a wave of calm and contentment wrapping itself over him, lulling him and letting him drift in peace, making him brave enough to ask, under his breath, just as he carefully painted a pinky, “What is it like?”

Klaus held up his now finished hand, admiring it like someone would not admire a hand smeared with nail polish, “What is what like?”

“Being out,” he clarifies, feeling oddly vulnerable now that he had voiced his question. He had always wondered what it was like to be in Klaus’s shoes, completely unashamed and just so out in the open. He imagined it was nauseatingly overwhelming.

Klaus moved his gaze from his hand to his eyes, expression devoid of any kind of confusion or offence at being asked the question. He just looked serene, with the fairy lights framing his head and badly painted hand, “I don’t know,” he shrugged good-naturedly, but not uncaringly, holding his other hand for Dave to paint, “I have been out all my life, there was never a moment when something changed drastically- it has always been the same.”

“So you never had to come out?” he was glad he was looking down for this conversation because he was feeling increasingly more vulnerable as it went on- which just didn’t make any sense, considering that Klaus was the one being asked very personal questions. He almost backtracked out of it, apology ready on his lips, but his friend calmly answered, not sounding or looking distressed in the slightest by the questions. Either he got asked them a lot, or he didn’t care when it was Dave who asked them.

“I never had to, people just assume for themselves,” he didn’t sound angry about it, he actually sounded pleased, “It saves a lot of useless chatting, but it also makes me an easy target,” Dave went to apologize, leaving his nail painting work for a moment to look up at him, but Klaus beat him to it, “Not your fault.”

They were quiet for a while until Dave finished his lopsided work. They both looked down at it for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts until Klaus spoke again, “I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.”

He knew it was an encouragement, something to look forward to, but his heart still clenched painfully. He was no Klaus, people had no clue. He was going to have to do all of the work himself, and face the consequences of it, “My family, they,” he sighed, wondering not for the first time that night why they were having such an emotionally weighted conversation, but feeling no need to stop it as long as Klaus didn’t, “They have no idea. They would see it as me lying to them.”

“You could ease them into it,” Klaus’s tone changed, from the hushed whispers from before sliding into something more cheerful, and Dave knew he was now trying to light up the mood because he couldn’t deny what he had said: his family might think that he had been lying to them for two decades, and there was really no telling until he did it, “You could have them watch some _Orange Is the New Black_.”

Dave made a sound between a laugh and a groan, “God, that show either makes you realize you’re gay or asexual. It would traumatize them.”

“I’d give it a shot,” Klaus shrugged, then sobered up again, looking inquisitively at Dave. It was disorienting how quickly he went from one opposite to the other, “Or I could put in a good word for you. Tell them how amazing you are, and make them realize how much of a mistake cutting you off would be,” that was definitely enough emotional vulnerability for Klaus, who switched again to being playful, “Or I could fight them. Either is fine by me.”

Dave chuckled, hugging his arms to his chest in a facsimile of a hug, “That could be arranged.”

Before he could try to lighten up the mood, suggesting they put on a movie or watch some true-crime videos on youtube to make sure neither of them slept a blink, Klaus did something complicated with his face, as if he couldn't decide what emotion to settle on, and moved forward on the bed, reaching out. His arms curled around Dave’s shoulder, pulling him into a soft embrace, and he completely froze on the spot.

As if taking it upon themselves to prove that he had no idea how to react to a display of affection, especially if it was done by another boy, and the cultural environment he was brought up in certainly didn’t help, his arms categorically refused to reciprocate the embrace, instead preferring to spastically cling to his own torso, and it wasn’t until Klaus reached down to touch them that they unclenched.

“You’re supposed to hug back, or it won’t work,” he explained, manoeuvring Dave’s arms like a ragdoll until they reacted enough for him to hug him back. They fit together perfectly, Klaus’s smaller frame nestling itself like a puzzle against Dave’s sturdy figure.

“Sorry, I’m not great at hugs,” he found an opportunity to make a joke, and immediately flung himself to it, “I guess you’ll have to teach me sometime.”

Klaus snorted into his shoulder, “Please never try to flirt ever again."

* * *

The realization took form in his head quite suddenly, in a way that left him gasping for air in shock. He probably should have seen it coming, really, but when he finally put the pieces together it seemed like his world had been completely flipped inside out.

It was like being hit by a bus, really.

It was just a normal day, nothing exceptional had happened. He had woken up, gotten some coffee with Chaz, went to class, shared his economics notes with Vanya who had to skip a day because of her violin practice, had lunch with his football friends, and he was now in the library with Klaus, doing homework just like any other day. As he said, nothing special.

And yet, as he sat there, contemplating whether he should study German or sociology next, he found his gaze slipping over to Klaus. He was busy concentrating on the task at hand, with so much seriousness in his gaze it almost seemed like he was defusing a bomb when actually all he was doing was fill his textbook with tiny colourful bookmarks. The tip of his tongue made its way out of his mouth at one point, and Klaus seemed to be too busy with sticking the bookmarks in the right place to be aware of it.

Without meaning to, Dave found himself smiling, a soft wave of affection washing over him at the sight. God, he loved him.

His elbow slipped off his book and off the desk, making him hit the corner of it with a surprised yelp. Half of the library hissed at him to shut up and Klaus glanced up at him half amused and half concerned as he rubbed his now aching arm.

“Are you okay?” Klaus mouthed, tiny green bookmark stuck to his thumb, which also had some yellow spots on it from when he had used the highlighter now that he noticed, and the odd wave of softness came back in full force.

What the _fuck_.

“Uh,” he dumbly said, too busy with the new information whirling through his brain to properly handle outside inputs. He loved him? He loved Klaus? The boy in front of him? And he only noticed _now_? “I think so?”

Klaus gave him an odd look but didn’t push it any further, for which Dave was deeply grateful. He just went back to his notes and Dave leaned back on his chair, not knowing what to do with himself.

He was in love with Klaus.

He cleaned his throat, loud enough that everyone hissed at him a second time, but he was still too dazed to properly care. He was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't mind me, casually trimming this is half cause it was so absurdly long I felt bad just chucking it into the world, [please stand by](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBlFHuCzPgY)


	2. Chapter 2

The realization… it took a while to get over.

It was already hard to grasp the idea that he was in love with someone- it had been _ages_ since the last time he had even had a crush, he had honestly forgotten that would eventually be a possibility to be taken into consideration- but realizing he was in love with one of his best friends was plain absurd. He just could not wrap his head around the concept.

And honestly, how cliche was that? He found the only one gay kid in miles of hetero land and barely three months later he was head over heels for him? He was ashamed for himself, he was such a stereotype.

As a matter of fact, it took him more or less two weeks to get over it and accept that him being in love with the guy that wore crop tops in November was a thing now.

For a while, he tiptoed around the concept, trying to see if he had actually realized what he thought he had realized (he strictly avoided the word ‘love’ during that time, he didn’t want to accidentally condition himself). He would sometimes just sit there, looking as Klaus during their homework session, or over a nice milkshake, and just ask himself, _is he really the boy you love? This one?_

If Klaus noticed him staring, he said nothing. He gave him a couple of odd looks every now and then, a raised eyebrow above a quirked mouth, but he seemed to sense the turmoil Dave was going through because he never brought it up.

There were times when the thinking became too much for Dave, when the mere thought and sight of Klaus started to get suffocating, and he had to stand up and take a walk to refresh his mind. Those times were the only ones when Klaus would show legitimate concern towards him. It didn’t help that these bursts would usually happen only when Klaus touched him, or brushed against him, so it was no surprise if the boy thought he had caused that reaction in him. He was always quick to reassure him, write the feeling off as him being restless or getting some static electric shock by accident, and he prayed that Klaus believed him and never pushed to find what was actually bothering him.

He never did, and after a couple of weeks, just as December started rolling in, Dave had finally reached the acceptance stage of the journey that was his wrecked love life. What started as a panicking thought slowly became a sure knowledge, and now, whenever Klaus would brush against him, scrunch up his nose in annoyance, play with his milkshake, or drape himself over a chair, he would just think yep, that is the boy I love.

Telling him was another completely different deal, but he planned on getting there. Who knew, maybe Klaus was going through the same turmoil he was, it was fair to give him some time to get over it as he had.

* * *

He didn’t consider himself a romantic guy, but by the time he finally made up the courage to just try and do something about his more and more obvious affection for Klaus he had to admit it wasn’t a half-bad idea, although fairly simple. He would just ask him to go for a milkshake at Agnes’s place, the one they always went to, and Klaus would point that out, immediately, reminding him that was their routine, that it was pointless to ask him. Then, and here came the romance part, he would clarify that he was asking him out on a date, that he wanted their usual milkshake afternoon to be dates, and Klaus would say that he did too. And then they would kiss, most definitely, something that Dave had actually been thinking about for quite a while then and hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

Or at least, that’s what the Klaus in Dave’s mind would do in that situation. The real Klaus, though? That was a completely different deal. Maybe he felt the same as he did, maybe he didn’t, there was only one way to find out, and Dave was determined to go through with it because if he didn’t he was sure he was going to go crazy just thinking about the boy.

He didn’t let himself think what would happen if Klaus told him he didn’t share his feelings- that was a possibility that made his heart clench to just think about, and he preferred to maintain his mental health intact and just not even consider it. He would cross that bridge if he ever got to it. Until then, he the mere thought of bridges made him sick.

So there he was, on a Thursday afternoon, headed towards the library, where his friend whom he felt totally platonic feelings towards was waiting for him along with their sociology assignment. There was a certain layer of trepidation in his step, and it didn’t take him long to reach their usual seats, at the very back of the library where they hoped their shared chats and giggles would annoy the other students as little as possible.

It was going to be fine. He was certain of it.

Once he got there, though, he halted, one foot hallway to the ground as he took in the sight in front of him, his plan for the day momentarily forgotten. Klaus was sitting down, his bag on his side untouched and his books still safely tucked inside of it, and instead of worrying himself with their sociology assignment he seemed to be worrying over his own phone, looking at it with concern. It didn’t take much to figure out he was actually using it as a mirror, and that it was his own face he seemed to be concerned over, but before Dave could ask him about it he seemed to sense his presence, letting the phone fall back down on the table and offering him a quick smile as he tried to hide part of his face from him, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. 

“Hey there, fancy seeing you here,” Klaus tried to joke, one hand sneaking up to cover his left eye in a way that was meant to look casual but that really wasn’t.

“What happened?” Dave immediately asked, not even pretending to play around and just getting straight to the point. The stiff way Klaus was holding himself reminded him of the fight he had gotten into months before, and of the big ugly bruise it had caused, and his blood pressure was already through the roof. He let his bag fall down, sitting next to Klaus, and the boy seemed to tense even more.

“It’s nothing, I-“ he tried to brush him off again, but when Dave reached up a hand to touch his jaw he seemed to melt under his fingers. He had seen him do that more than once- Klaus was a fairly touchy person, you just needed to brush against him to make him swoon- but now he just looked like he was giving up his defences in front of Dave, allowing him to slowly turn his face to the side, revealing the until then hidden part of it. Dave would have found it touching if it wasn’t for what he discovered.

A big ugly bruise covered Klaus’s left eye, the swelling of it already turning a dark red, and it seemed to be painful too if Klaus’s squinted expression was anything to go by. He involuntarily tightened his grip on his jaw, a sudden flare of protectiveness making his way around his veins, and Klaus made a soft sound in the back of his throat, still not pulling away from him.

“Was it MacMillan?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. The guy had hit Klaus once when he was with his brother and gotten an almost broken nose out of it, he was sure that had he caught him alone he would have tried to get back at him. At Klaus’s confirming nod he breathed out, letting go of his jaw to stand up. He was going to beat that bastard up, even if it expelled him.

“Dave, wait!” Klaus hissed, surprisingly calm and collected for someone who had just gotten a black eye from the most homophobic dude in the whole campus, “It’s not worth it, leave it, you’ll only make him pick on you too.”

“Well he better fucking start then because I plan on breaking his face,” he deadpanned back, too angry to give a kinder answer but also too in love with Klaus to actually snap at him. Before the boy could reply to that he quickly bent down to pick up his bag and stormed out of the place (making sure to make as little noise as possible because hey, it was still a library they were in).

“Dave!” Klaus yelled, apparently not worried to make a scene. A good dozen of synchronized _shhh_ followed them out, Dave determined to hunt down the guy that dared to hurt Klaus again, and Klaus hot on his heels, trying to dissuade him from doing just that, “Holy shit how do you walk so fast- Dave, stop!”

“Was it just him or was he with his usual group of friends?” Dave asked, ignoring Klaus’s efforts to stop him. He halted in the hall, trying to see where to head first to find the bastard, and that seemed to give Klaus enough time to catch up with him because in a matter of seconds he was at his side, attaching himself to his arm.

“He was with some of his friends, which is another reason to _not do this_ ,” he planted his feet on the ground, and when Dave went to move he fought to stay put, still holding onto his arm. Dave was much stronger than him, so it didn’t work, and he just ended up trailing after him, sliding on the smooth floor without losing his grip, “Worst case scenario, they beat you up to a pulp and I have to scoop you up with a spoon. Best case scenario, you beat them up-“

“Which I intend on doing.”

“And out yourself in the meanwhile!” Klaus whispered this last part, aware that they were still in public even though nobody seemed to be around, and the few people who were didn’t seem to be paying them much attention. Dave slightly slowed down at that, all of his nerves shooting up to attention. Klaus breathed out a sigh of relief now that he had stopped to listen, and he slightly tightened his grip on his arm, “Think, why would a random straight guy get so upset that a random gay guy got beaten up?”

“Because you’re my _friend_ ,” Dave reminded him, his heart clenching uncomfortably at the label that didn’t fit it any more. Klaus persisted with his monologue, ignoring him and his evident lexical struggle.

“They would immediately make the connection, and I doubt they would keep it to themselves,” his eyes softened, although he too wasn’t happy about the situation, but they were still full of vehemence, “It’s better to just leave it as it is, I’ll file a complaint with the principal and hope for the best. It’s not worth it, Dave.”

Something inside Dave broke at that and he fully turned towards his friend to better regard him. Klaus would rather jeopardize his own safety than to have Dave in a situation where he mightbe accidentally outed. He had literally just gotten a black eye and was still squinting at him under his usual messy mop of hair and he was still willingly putting Dave’s wellbeing before himself.

If he wasn’t already in love with him by then that surely made him fully fall for him.

He meant to reply something to that, that he was extremely grateful for him and that he was still going to find a way to make MacMillan pay for what he had done, but before he could someone loudly whistled, cat-call style, and Klaus jumped back on instinct, startled. Looking up, he saw the source of that whistle, and everything Klaus had just told him went completely out the window.

MacMillan and his gang of assholes were strutting towards them with their usual swagger and nonchalance. They looked like they were gloating, holding their head high but still not high enough to be taller than Dave, and just the thought that their sudden confidence came from punching Klaus for no real reason made his blood boil in his veins. Klaus’s warning words were now a fuzzy memory and he was already in fight or flight mode.

“Well well well, if it isn’t our very own queer,” MacMillan sing sung, obviously trying to intimidate Klaus, but he didn’t back down. He only looked at the three of them and their snarling faces, right eye still closed under the now purple swelling, and didn’t even flinch at the slur. No wonder he got beaten up so often, he must be a pain in the ass to those guys’ self-esteem, “I see you’re still trying to get dicked down, was what we told you earlier not enough? Do you need me to repeat myself?”

Dave looked back at Klaus and mouthed an apology to him. His eyes widened in understanding but before he could step in and hold him back again he turned towards his assaulters, “MacMillan, may I have a word please?”

Before anyone could react, he lashed out, punching the asshole right in the face. He didn’t even need to step any further towards him, he had already gotten close enough to gloat in their face shamelessly, so really, it kind of was his own fault. He doubled over, both with the surprise of the blow and the impact of it, and his friends stepped back, shocked at what had just happened. MacMillan didn’t even need to look up and take his hands away from his face to know he had broken his nose, the noise his punch had caused was quite telling.

Klaus immediately stepped in after the initial surprise, putting himself between Dave and the gang of assholes, one hand on his chest as if wanting to both hold him back and protect him from any retaliation, and Dave must have really been the dumbest gay in the world if he managed to get flustered at _that_.

He looked down at his hand and shook off the numbing feeling that started to take over it. MacMillan sure had a hard face.

“Holy shit, dude, you broke his face,” one of the other two students breathed out, wordlessly looking down at MacMillan, still doubled over in pain. They all seemed to be dazed, not knowing how to react to what has just happened, and Dave took the chance to reinforce the point.

“You touch Klaus again and I’ll break more than just your nose,” he deadpanned, fully knowing he was playing with fire and that one more punch could get all of them expelled. He was only lucky that nobody seemed to be around and that now they were all even.

Klaus’s hand tightened its hold on his shirt at that, and MacMillan looked up, blood streaming down his face from his nose and tears in his eyes. He looked pathetic, “What the fuck?” he sputtered, then tried again after spitting out a bit of blood, scrambling back to his feet. His friends were still too shocked to even help him up, “What are you, some other fag like him?”

Dave took one step forward at that, sizing the three guys up with a hard gaze that made them visibly falter. Klaus just lowly said his name, just once, the same way one would do with a growling dog they wanted to calm down. He didn’t need to, “I’m a fag you sure don’t want to mess with, that’s what I am.”

Well, that was one way of putting it.

MacMillan just looked at him shocked- let it be by the broken nose or by the revelation- and Dave took the occasion to leave him as he was. He took a step back, pulling Klaus alongside him, and was surprised by the look he saw on the boy’s face.

He wasn’t concerned as he had been until then, he wasn’t even shocked by what had just happened. He was just looking at him with a mix of wonder and amazement, as well as a layer of something else he couldn’t quite place but that made his heart skip a few beats. He could just imagine the surprise he must be feeling, from warning him of the consequences of facing MacMillan to seeing Dave out himself just to defend him.

“Come on,” he said, looking away before he did something stupid like hug him to make sure he was still in one piece, “Let’s get you patched up."

* * *

They decided to steer clear of any public places, too tired and dazed to have the energy to deal with other people’s stares and questions, so they just decided to head towards Dave’s dorm. They did stop at the infirmary though, just long enough to grab a bag of ice for Klaus, and when the boy visibly tensed when the nurse kindly asked him what ha happened Dave concluded that some time behind a closed door was only going to do them some good.

“I can’t believe you punched him,” Klaus nervously giggled once they walked through the door, bag of ice now pressed to his swelling eye. He seemed to be getting back to his usual self after the initial shock of the day, now teasing Dave as he made himself at home in his dorm room. It was the first time he had ever come over to his place, so he seemed to be wanting to take in everything, from his open books on the desk to his neatly made bed.

“And I can’t believe you got punched,” he replied, taking Klaus by the shoulders to steer him away from the succulents he was poking and towards the bed, “Sit down and relax a bit before you get a concussion from that black eye.”

“That’s not how concussions work, Davey,” Klaus tutted, grabbing his hands on his own shoulders to pull him along with him, frowning when Dave pulled his bruised hand away with a soft hiss, “And you need to get that hand looked at, too, mister.”

After a short argument that quickly turned into some sort of pain Olympics to see which one between the two of them was more worthy of attention at the time, they finally both settled down, Dave on the bed and Klaus on the desk chair directly in front of him. Their legs were pressed together, it was impossible not to when they were so close, and when Klaus discarded his ice bag to take a look at Dave’s hand he went to protest only to be shushed.

“Stop it, I’m fine,” he moaned, the same way a kid would after being smothered by their parent. Before Dave could complain again and remind his friend that he was still only seeing from one eye, Klaus took his bruised hand in his and any sort of argument died on his lips.

Klaus cradled his hand like it was something precious and delicate, which was kind of paradoxical considering he had just punched a guy in the face with it; nothing was anywhere close to broken, but he didn’t complain, rather just looked down at their joined hands. His fingers involuntarily flexed against Klaus’s, an unconscious attempt to embrace them, and he coughed, trying to play it off as some sort of spasm. He couldn’t tell if it worked, but when Klaus spoke again he could hear the smile in his voice.

“You really went out of the way to defend my honour, huh?” he joked, and Dave fought back a flush. Well, when you put it that way…

“Your brother would have murdered that guy, punching him seems like the least to do,” he settled on. He couldn’t deny that a significant part of him had enjoyed standing up for Klaus, threatening MacMillan to never touch him again, but it sounded too righteous to say aloud so he just shut his mouth. Quietly, he picked up the bag of ice Klaus had discarded and carefully pressed it to his black eye. Klaus didn’t complain, preferring to just lean into the cold relief of the bag.

“Either way, I’m glad you stepped in,” he told him, almost like it was a secret, looking down at his hand with a slightly concerned frown, “It was dumb and reckless, but I appreciated it."

As he had said, there was really nothing concerning about his hand. His knuckles were a little bruised, a reddish blush making its way around them, but nothing was broken nor cut, and the initial numbing feeling had started to dissipate. He would have completely disregarded them but Klaus seemed determined to take care of him, and he was fairly sure he was only doing it to distract himself from his own bruises, and how could he deny him that.

When he started kneading into his hand, relaxing the tense muscles underneath it, he decided to not question it. He let out a long, content sigh, letting his eyes fall closed for a second as he relaxed under Klaus’s attention. When his fingers involuntarily tightened again around Klaus’s hand he didn’t stop them, and when he felt Klaus’s answering squeeze he smiled softly, not bothering to open his eyes.

He wasn’t sure for how long they stayed like that, but when one of Klaus’s hands sneaked away from their joined hold he opened his eyes, blinking back the sudden sunlight. He reached for his wrist and for the bag of ice still pressed against his own eye, and before Dave could argue he dropped it on the bed, discarding it, before taking his other hand in his. Klaus didn’t explain himself, just simply held both of his hands in his, his touch soft but secure, just kind of looking down at their upturned palms in fascinations. Then, he smiled, looking up at him with a little quirk in his mouth mitigated by the swelling of his eye. Dave felt his heart ascend to heaven.

It was an odd mix, the frowning and the smiling, one that made Klaus look incredibly radiant but fragile at the same time, and Dave had to control a sudden intense urge to just reach over and kiss him. He was so close, he just needed to lean forward to reach his lips, and _god_ how much he wanted to. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it for weeks now, and with the still lingering adrenaline from punching MacMillan, defending Klaus’s honour as he had said, he was finding it difficult to come up with a reason as to why that was a bad idea.

“Sorry,” Klaus breathed out, a slight blush of embarrassment making its way on his cheeks unexpectedly. He broke their small embrace, sneaking his own hands back around his torso like he was trying to cage something within it and leaving Dave with his palms still turned upwards, now empty, “I just-“

He didn’t seem to be able to finish the sentence, too many emotions were battling in his eyes, and Dave made up his mind and decided to just not let him. Before he could chicken out of it he dipped his head to catch Klaus’s lips with his own, just once, just quickly. He didn’t let himself linger, too afraid of rejection, and immediately pulled back. He had barely tasted him and he was already out of breath, heaving as if he had just run a marathon.

On his part, Klaus didn’t speak up. His eyes had slipped closed the moment Dave had closed the gap between them, and they still were. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, towards Dave, and after a brief moment, he blinked his eyes open, both of them staring up at him in amazement.

“Can you-“ he cleaned his throat as Dave stared at him on the hedge of panic, not even daring to breathe. Everything inside of him was screaming to just close that gap again and touch Klaus in whatever capacity he was allowed to, but inwardly he was also preparing for a blow. Klaus made a quick aborted motion, as if he wanted to reach out himself but decided against it, and a little bonfire of hope lit itself inside Dave’s chest, “Can you do that again? Please?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Finally breathing out, he reached up a trembling hand to cup Klaus’s unwounded cheek and let himself marvel for just a second at how the boy’s eyes immediately slipped closed again at the touch, just waiting for him to make the next move before he captured his lips with his again. This time Klaus seemed to be ready for it because, after a moment in which both of them were completely still, just savouring the instant, he reached up to touch Dave’s wrist, both to keep him there and to ground himself. His thumb started softly caressing the skin there, reverently and without any kind of rush, and Dave squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the sudden pathetic wave of tears that threaded to overflow him. Had he known that’s what kissing Klaus felt like he would have done it ages before.

When he pulled back to breathe Klaus’s hold on his wrist tightened and he chased his mouth, a soft noise of complaint building up in the back of his throat. Dave couldn’t help but chuckle at that against Klaus’s mouth, reaching up both hands to cup his face and pull him closer to him, fully agreeing with the sentiment. The moment he touched his cheek, though, Klaus let out a sudden yelp of pain, and they both jumped back in surprise, Dave with wide alarmed eyes and Klaus with a hand covering the black eye Dave had just accidentally touched.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Dave rushed to apologize, already reaching for the discarded bag of ice to fuss over Klaus’s wound. The boy didn’t let him, reaching for the bag first and throwing it out of Dave’s reach. He frowned at him, confused, but when he saw the look in his eyes he shut his mouth with an audible click. He looked borderline murderous for a second.

“Dave,” Klaus said, standing up from his chair to sit on the bed with Dave, more specifically _on_ Dave. He planed his knees on either side of him, forcing him to look up at him from the new changed angle, and as he put both of his hands around his neck he forgot all about what he was thinking, “Please shut the fuck up.”

One of his thumbs was pressed against his jugular, right over the stuttering pulse of his vein, and when he leaned down to catch his lips again there was no way he couldn’t feel the way Dave’s heart was hammering in his chest. He whimpered against his mouth, enjoying the way Klaus slightly shivered at the vibration, before scooting back on the bed to better accommodate the boy still hovering over his lap. Klaus happily followed him, too content with kissing him to break the embrace, and when Dave’s back touched the wall he tentatively reached his hands up to Klaus’s waist, almost trembling in their trepidation.

His hands hesitated around Klaus’s hips, partly because he was too worried about breaking an unspoken rule by touching him somewhere other than his hands or arms, partly because his brain was too preoccupied with kissing the boy back with all of himself to properly pay attention to what he was doing. Klaus, psychic that he was, seemed to sense his conflict because he pulled back enough to whisper a quick "go on," against his lips before going back to kissing them like his life depended on it. Relaxing back against the wall, Dave let his hands curl around Klaus’s waist, pulling him down until he was no longer kneeling but rather sitting on his lap, all safe and comfortable in his arms.

Klaus hummed contently at that, and Dave had to hold himself back from doing something embarrassing like properly purr at the new contact. Everything in his being was screaming at him to sneak his arms around Klaus and pull him forward until their chests were pressed together and he could feel their hearts beating against each other, but he held himself back. He was already close to passing out just by kissing the boy, he didn’t want to give himself a stroke by adding skin to skin contact to the mix.

When Klaus finally pulled back from him what felt like hours later he tried to follow him, not done with catching up with all the missed opportunities he could have taken advantage of, but the boy stopped him with a soft hand against his jaw. He whined, not ashamed to show exactly how much he wanted to go back to kissing him. Klaus giggled at that, a proper happy sound, and it was enough to bring him back to reality and make him open his eyes again.

Klaus looked almost ethereal in his lap, his lips already kiss-swollen and his face properly glowing, and he couldn’t help but beam at him like the love-struck idiot that he was.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to do that,” Klaus confessed, still close enough to lean his forehead against Dave’s but not enough for him to steal a quick kiss out of him. His words seemed to sober him up a little because he managed to put away the image and feeling of Klaus’s lips from his brain long enough for him to frown.

“ _You_ were waiting?” he scoffed, not letting himself be softened by the way Klaus was now gently caressing the back of his neck in slow and hesitant strokes, “You’re the brave one, you should have done something about this,” and with that he nodded at the two of them, jostling Klaus around in the process, “ages ago.”

“Dave, you broke a guy’s nose for me,” Klaus easily pointed out, a flicker of pride making its way around his eyes. Dave went to protest, but he just shut him up with a quick kiss, “That’s pretty fucking brave if you ask me.”

He couldn’t really disagree with that sentiment. Although there was some layer of fear still lingering from the encounter, especially in regards to what MacMillan might or might not do with the information he had learned about Dave, he had to admit that he had felt oddly satisfied in punching the guy square in the face for disrespecting Klaus. It was the same part of his brain that now wanted nothing more than to pull the boy close again and kiss him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Instead of addressing his fears, he just smirked at Klaus, tilting his chin up in what he hoped was an inviting way. If Klaus’s darkening eyes were any guess, it was, “Let’s be even with the bravery. Kiss me again?"

* * *

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but in a way or another, they found their way snuggled up on the bed, their legs tangled like two sleepy cats and doing really nothing more than just cuddling. Klaus was curled up against him, his face hidden under his chin where he kept dropping small feather-like kisses from time to time, and Dave, one hand around him and the other curled into his hair, lazily stroking his curls, honestly thought he had somehow died and ascended to heaven.

Maybe MacMillan had punched him to death after all and he was now dead and enjoying the afterlife and he couldn’t remotely complain.

He was so blissful that the moment Klaus stopped kissing his skin, rather deciding to just lie there with his hand clenching and unclenching on his shirt, he knew immediately there was something wrong. Taking a deep breath, trying not to get emotional at the sight of Klaus moving along with his chest, he delicately ran a couple of fingers over his ribcage, enough to let him know he was onto him, “I can hear you overthink from here.”

Klaus chuckled, but it sounded so off it made Dave halt, both of his hands stilling against him, “I was just wondering,” Klaus took a breath, but Dave didn’t, holding his, “What do you want to do?”

His hands slowly started moving again, still soothingly running through Klaus’s curls and over his skin, but this time their movement was more deliberate and calculated, “I know we shouldn’t procrastinate our sociology assignment but I really just want to do this for the rest of the day,” he tightened his hold on Klaus to clarify the point, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt him reciprocate the embrace, “Maybe we could get some poke for dinner.”

“Dave,” Klaus’s voice was soft but layered with a certain degree of concern. That wasn’t right.

He tried to pull away from Klaus, searching his gaze, but the other boy only held tighter to him, his face still resolutely pressed against his throat. Whatever they were talking about it was something serious. He tried to relax, and not think of the worse. They had just spent the better half of their afternoon making out like a couple of hormonal teenagers to the point that he could now barely move his jaw without it hurting, there was no way Klaus wanted to break things off after _that_.

Right?

“Where do you want to go from here?” Klaus’s question was clear and spoken fairly deliberately, with no sort of inflexion. He sounded like he had forced himself to be calm and reasonable and not let Dave see what he thought of the subject, and that was enough to make him hold him closer again.

There was really no going around the issue there: Klaus was deliberately asking him what he wanted them to be. He was once again putting himself last, letting Dave decide for himself, probably in a last attempt at protecting him and his poorly hidden secret, still determined to make himself unhappy if it meant he was comfortable and safe and fuck, he loved this boy so much, there was no way he couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating, so pressed up against it as he was.

So really, with the boy of his dreams held in his arms, his heart bared in front of him and allowing him to break it if he wanted, there was nothing else he could say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Whatever Klaus had been expecting to hear it definitely wasn’t that, because he immediately whipped his head up, fast enough to almost knock it against Dave’s chin. He already knew that he was most likely looking at him with wide eyes- or as wide as the still swelling black eye allowed them to be- over what he had just said, but Dave pointedly avoided his gaze, preferring to stare at the ceiling. Regardless of what Klaus said and believed, he wasn’t the brave one, and if they were going to have this kind of conversation he sure wasn’t going to look him in the eye during it.

“I-“ he chocked, suddenly getting emotional, and cleared his throat to start again. Klaus just rubbed his hand over his side, both to show he was listening and as a form of comfort, slightly sitting up on his elbow so that he could better see him, “I just want to be like any other couple, you know?” he finally decided to meet his gaze, and stuttered when he saw the intensity in his eyes. God, how could they possibly go back to how things were before if all he wanted to do was to take Klaus in his arms and kiss him again, “Hold hands, go on dates, annoy other people with PDA, be that one grossly cute couple everyone always awws over,” Klaus softly laughed at that, and he swallowed thickly, “If you want, of course.”

He didn’t really know why he was even worried about it, everything about Klaus, from the hope he could read in his eyes to how his hands were now unconsciously fisted in his shirt, told him that he felt exactly as he did, but the weak and insecure part of Dave, the one that still panicked and made his hands tremble whenever he heard someone even mention the word ‘gay’, wasn’t too sure of it.

Klaus seemed to sense his panic, could probably feel it in his ever beating heart, because he didn’t hesitate to lower his head to softly kiss his forehead. It was such a pure touch that he had to close his eyes for a moment, fighting off a couple of tears, “Dave, you’re a smart guy. You must be aware of exactly how much I want that,” he had a feeling, but it was still great to hear it, and he wasn’t ashamed to let out a breath of relief at that, involuntarily jostling Klaus with the force of it, “But what about..?”

He didn’t finish his question, just frowned at him in apprehension, and Dave already knew what he was thinking. What about his friends? What about his family? What about everyone who was still convinced that he was the most white bread straight guy in existence?

“I’ll figure something out,” Dave reassured him. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to even begin to imagine how it would be like to lift that weight off his chest and admit to everyone he knew that he had been lying to them all that time. For the time being, all he cared about was Klaus, and his hand that was now running through his curls with the hesitation of someone who had always wanted to but was never until then allowed.

“I’m such a bad influence on you,” Klaus hummed, and Dave let himself relax under his touch, closing his eyes, safe and sound in his arms, “Not even a semester has passed since we’ve met and I managed to convince you to come out after 23 years of life.”

He chuckled, blinking his eyes open to look at Klaus. He immediately beamed at him once he noticed his gaze, lovestruck expression that he was sure was reflected on his own face, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, baby.”

Klaus practically purred at the term of endearment, rearranging himself on Dave so that he could snuggle up against his neck again, pulling his arms around him the same way one would do with a blanket, “Flatter myself? I’m the boyfriend of the university’s quarterback. I will fucking gloat until I die.”

He had already said the b-word himself, but hearing Klaus repeat it and reaffirm it was simply poetic. He laughed good-naturedly, snuggling his _boyfriend_ closer to his chest, smothering his head under his chin. Klaus immediately started kissing his throat again, picking up where he had left.

He was so content that when Klaus’s lips started worrying at his skin more insistently, no doubt trying to leave the tiniest of love bites right where his neck met his shoulder, he just hummed in disagreement. Old Dave would have freaked out at the idea of a boy lying in his arms on his bed trying to mark him up. New Dave just huffed at how ridiculously bold Klaus was.

“Klaus,” he tried to pull away but his boyfriend only followed suit, evidently enjoying the teasing, “Don’t push it.”

“What?” the boy in question murmured against his throat, a small whine leaving his lips although he did listen to Dave and pulled away enough to pout up at him, “I’m doing you a favour, your burly mates are so far up with their heteronormativity that they’ll assume it was a girl who did that, it will keep you covered until you figure something out.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” one of Dave’s hand sneaked up to the hem of Klaus’s shirt, thumbing at the exposed skin there, and when Klaus reached down to touch his wrist and pull it further up he let it sneak under it, sliding over his ribs as if he was running his fingers over a piano. A piano that immediately arched up like a cat, “Just stop it, you noodle.”

And as though he wasn’t being already insufferable as it was and Dave’s blood pressure wasn’t bordering a medical emergency, Klaus got close enough to him that their noses were touching, a devilish glint in his eyes softened by evident affection dancing in them, “Make me.”

Dave coughed on a laugh, trying to ignore the sudden blush that threatened to rise up at the tone in Klaus’s voice, and since there was really no other thing he could- or would rather- do, he happily complied. All of Klaus’s bravado disappeared the moment Dave moved to kiss him, quite literally melting under his touch as he breathed a soft happy sigh against his mouth.

He let his hand lazily run all the way up his boyfriend’s back, crumpling his shirt as he went and enjoying the way his muscles tensed under his touch, leaving little goosebumps in his wake, and when Klaus put his arms around his neck, very unsubtly trying to pull him on top of him as he rolled on his back, he had to admit that if it was all a dream his brain really had overdone itself with it.

“Klaus-“ he pulled away when Klaus pawed at his shoulders with a little whine, trying to make him stop holding himself up on his forearm, “Klaus you’re half my size, I’m gonna crush you.”

“That’s the point, babe,” his boyfriend readily replied- or rather, whined again- tangling their legs up in a way that he was sure he was immediately going to get pins and needles, but he was kept from complaining when Klaus pulled him back towards his mouth again, and he promptly forgot his train of thoughts. 

Devil that he was, Klaus began to run his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp with the accurateness he shouldn’t already possess, and when Dave’s arm buckled underneath him- eliciting a small but not unhappy ‘oof’ from his boyfriend- he didn’t even try to pull himself back up again. He had no idea he liked Klaus petting his hair so much but now he wanted nothing more from life.

When they broke apart to breathe, unashamedly breathless like the idiots they were, Dave didn’t hesitate to drop small kisses all over his boyfriend’s jaw and neck, returning the favour from before, letting his mouth curl up in a smile when Klaus laughed at the ticklish sensation, hands still petting though his hair and their legs even the more tangled up.

And as if the universe itself personally hated him, their little love bubble was quite rudely poked when someone suddenly knocked at his door. Quite insistently too.

Klaus let his head loll back on the bed, frowning at the source of the noise as though personally offended by it, and Dave, literal gay panic that he was, completely froze above him.

The euphoria of having his crush requited and him being more than willing to become his _boyfriend_ seemed to have completely killed the last brain cell he had left because the reality of the situation suddenly came crashing down on him, and he was made painfully aware of the fact that he, a supposedly straight guy, was currently in bed with the most flamboyant guy in town, on top of him to be more precise, with his hands all the way up his shirt, their legs tangled up like a couple of snakes, and a trail of little kisses still fresh on his throat.

And someone was knocking at his door.

“I know it’s quite uncharacteristic of me,” Klaus broke the silence, apparently able to read him like a book and ready to help him when in need. His voice was rumbling against Dave’s mouth where it was still pressed against his neck, frozen in its path, and it made it all the harder to not panic, “But I can hide in the closet while you deal with that.”

Before Dave could point out that there was no way he could play off how kiss-swollen his lips were and how there was probably a blossoming hickey on his throat and act like he was most certainly alone in his room and doing straight things straight guys do, the knock sounded again, and this time it was accompanied by a voice.

“Dave, is Klaus there with you?”

They both breathed out in relief at the sound of Ben’s voice, before they uncoordinatedly pulled themselves on their feet. Klaus almost fell off the bed with the movement, and after a bit of struggle they stood up, fixing their previously rumpled clothes to make sure they looked as little suspicious as they could. When Klaus went to fix the collar of his shirt for him, pulling it straight so that it wasn’t hanging down the side of his neck, he couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped him.

It was so domestic.

His boyfriend just eyed him curiously before turning towards the door, where his increasingly distressed brother was calling out from.

“You should probably answer it,” he said, then pointed at his face as an explanation, “Don’t want to give him a heart attack with… this.”

His eye was still half-closed, and the dark bruise surrounding it didn't seem to have any problem expanding as much as it was allowed to, “Yeah, it’s probably for the better.”

With Klaus right behind him, he opened the door of his room, feeling a lot like he was stepping over some sort of milestone while doing so. Odd.

“Hey,” Ben greeted him on the other side of it, and he looked fairly concerned, or at least enough to not say anything about how dishevelled Dave was sure still looked, “Is Klaus here? I couldn’t find you in the library and MacMillan looks like he was beaten up so-"

“Uh,” Dave drawled out, very coherently, “Yeah, about that…”

Ben’s eyes moved from him to something over his shoulder, and he didn’t need to look to know Klaus was probably waving sheepishly from behind him. Ben’s look of horror was enough.

“This is not what it looks like?” Klaus tried, writhing his hands nervously. Ben paled, and with a quick stride, he was in the room, completely bypassing Dave. He grabbed his brother’s face in his hands and turned it around to better look at the black eye, and Klaus didn’t even try to fight him off.

“What the fuck,” his brother breathed out, and Dave immediately reached out a hand to curl it around Ben’s arm, just to be sure. He had never seen Ben show any kind of negative emotion and hell, he was _scary_ when he was angry, maybe scarier than Diego, “Where is he? I’m going to beat his ass I swear to god-“

He tried to walk away but was stopped by Dave’s grip, and by Klaus’s hand shooting out to halt him.

“Benny no, it’s fine, Dave already took care of it,” and as if wanting to clarify in what capacity Dave _took care of it_ he reached up to take his arm off of Ben, tangling their fingers together once he had his hand in his. Dave’s stupid heart made a flip. He had no idea their hands would fit together so well.

“Oh,” Ben said, then paused to look at them with an odd frown. He then smiled, something knowing glinting in his eyes, “Well, fucking finally, you guys!”

“Shut up,” Klaus mumbled, curling himself up against Dave’s chest. Dave had to voluntarily relax his muscles and act naturally to not show exactly how tense he was, to show proper affection for another boy in front of another person. He knew he hadn’t succeeded when Klaus curled his arm better around his, almost protectively.

“So you went and beat MacMillan to a pulp to save the damsel in distress?” Klaus hissed at him- literally, like a cat- and before Dave could point out that he didn’t, technically, he _just_ broke his nose, Ben continued, evidently unbothered, “That’s so romantic. Klaus, your little gay ass owes me ten bucks.”

“Shut up,” this time Klaus growled, and Dave made a mental note to ask about this supposed bet later, “Can you go now? Our little gay asses were busy canoodling before you barged in.”

“Okay, one: gross,” Ben seemed to be fully cool with the new change, and although Dave wanted to let that reassure him, he knew not everyone would be. He squeezed Klaus’s hand involuntarily, only realizing he did it when Klaus squeezed back. Not the time to think about it, “Two: no I cannot, Diego is looking for you, and you should really find him and explain what happened before he goes on a murderous rampage.”

Klaus groaned at that, and as much as Dave agreed with the sentiment he knew Ben was right. They had already caused enough of a rustle as it was, having Diego hunt down MacMillan like some sort of vengeful hound was only going to make things worse.

“Should I really?” his boyfriend properly whined, like a little kid who was just asked to do something he didn’t like, and even burrowed himself closer to Dave in good measure, as if that alone was going to fix all of his problems. Dave hated to disappoint, but he doubted Diego would agree.

“Come on, you know how your brother is,” he tried pushing Klaus away from his chest and towards Ben, still waiting at the threshold with that soft smile he didn’t seem to be able to wipe off of his face, but the guy only clung tighter to him, “He could be tearing MacMillan apart as we speak for all we know.”

“You talk as if he doesn’t deserve it,” Klaus mumbled, seemingly mostly to himself, but finally pulled away. The sight of his black eye was a pang to his heart but his concern was quieted down by the loving smile he offered him, “You could come with us.”

“And hold Diego back from seeking revenge? Nah, I’ll leave the task to you,” Dave chuckled, having had enough of keeping people back and being kept back from beating someone up. This was a university, for heaven’s sake, what even was happening lately? “Also one of us has to do our sociology assignment, and it sure won’t be you.”

He didn’t mention that another reason why he didn’t want to go with Klaus was that he wasn’t ready for people to see them together now that they were, well, _together_. He knew he didn’t have much longer until MacMillan decided to tell the world about the little curious fact he recently learned about him, but for now, in his room, away from everything and everyone, he decided to pretend that all was still alright. That nobody got beat up, nobody knew he was gay, and he didn’t need to start worrying about how everyone he knew would react at the news.

He didn’t mention any of that, but Klaus seemed to sense that something was off. He kind of squinted at him with that psychic ability to read him like a book that he possessed and that Dave still was not sure whether he liked or not. Then, without saying a word, he just leaned up that couple of inches that he needed to reach Dave’s mouth and softly presses the sweetest of kisses to it. Compared to the open-mouthed and passionate kisses they had shared not even half an hour earlier it was odd how this one made his knees buckle weakly under his weight.

That was until he heard a clear clapping sound right behind Klaus, and he pulled back with a frown, “Did Ben just high five you?”

The guy himself laughed, loudly and openly, as if that was the best day of his life, “Can’t help it, I’m so happy for you guys.”

Klaus just shrugged helplessly, something almost tender dancing in his eyes. Then, remembering himself, he leaned up again to kiss his chin, and after a promise to be back as soon as he could he was gone.

“Right,” Dave said to the now empty room, hands clenching and unclenching with the uneasiness of having no Klaus to touch and kiss and pull closer anymore, “Sociology it is, I guess.”

* * *

He didn’t mean to float around his room aimlessly, high on serotonin and dizzy from love, but that is pretty much what he did for the rest of the afternoon.

Mind, he did complete the sociology assignment, even added some parts pretending that it was Klaus’s doing, but once he realized he knew the guy well enough to be able to perfectly copy his writing style he had to take a break, letting himself fall face first in his bed. That didn’t help either, though, because as soon as he realized his comforter still smelled of his boyfriend he groaned loudly in the blanket, scaring a couple of birds perched outside his window.

When his phone chimed with a notification from Klaus, telling him that unfortunately, he was going to be kept busy by his family for the rest of the evening and that they had to wait until the next day to meet up again, he decided that he was done wallowing and grabbed his jacket, making the most dramatic exit in the history of his dorm room.

As soon as the fresh late-afternoon hair hit his cheeks he breathed out, allowing himself to finally smile. God, he was so _happy_. He couldn’t remember the last time he had truly felt as content as he did now but he hoped it never stopped. Just the thought of Klaus brought a smile to his face, and even though he had to wait until the next day to see him again he couldn’t stop feeling giddy.

He soon found himself at the cafeteria, and after a wistful sigh at the realization that Klaus wasn’t there, he decided he might as well pick up his dinner. None of his usual friends was there, either, and with a bit of guilt, he realized he was grateful for that. He had no idea how he would have explained how happy he was and why and make it sound as straight as possible.

He did meet some of his others football buddies, though, and they all seemed to pick up on his cheerful mood because they smiled at him like characters in a Disney film about to burst out into a song. One of them, Keith, nodded at his neck with a wicked smile, whistling louder than Dave was comfortable with, “Got lucky, Katz?”

“Yeah,” Dave tried not to panic at the realization that he was referring to the hickey that was still on his throat and that he had completely forgotten about, stuffing his face with a bite of burger to keep himself from saying something dumb like ‘it was a guy! and I love him!’, “I suppose I did.”

He meant to eat dinner in his dorm, maybe watching _Mamma Mia!_ since he had wanted to for quite a while (god, how could people still believe with all of their hearts that he was straight?), but the nerves from that one misplaced comment made him devour his meal as he made his way back.

Would Keith still have shown such approval had he known that it was a boy Dave had ‘gotten lucky’ with? Would he still whistle? Or would he prefer to say something else, something more cutting? Would he have gotten violent? There was nobody around the cafeteria, it was just half a dozen students, he could have if he had wanted to…

He closed his door behind his back, and with that his train of thought. He had seen Keith cry once when he had accidentally hit a pigeon with the ball he had kicked. The pigeon had been only slightly jostled, but the poor guy had been near inconsolable. There wasn’t a single ounce of evil in his heart. The worst he could have gotten from him would have been the silent treatment, really.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself from the sudden downturn his brain had decided to take. But as life often had it, that was just the start of it.

His phone chimed with a notification, and he pulled it out from his jacket as he hung it near the door. It was a text from Chaz, a Facebook link accompanied by a single question.

_Is this true?_

His heart jumped in his throat, and as if on autopilot he opened the messaging app, clicking on the link with a trembling thumb. He didn’t believe in premonitions and vibes and all of that junk but he somehow already knew what it was about, so when the page finally finished loading he wasn’t surprised to see it was a post on the university’s Facebook group, written by none other than MacMillan, barely ten minutes earlier. Nor was he surprised by what it read.

_Ladies and gents (and I’m stopping there), just thought I’d jump by to tell y’all some scoop. Students council member and university football quarterback David Katz is a fag._

Dave let his phone slip from his grasp, knowing that the carpet would soften its fall, trying not to throw up. He didn’t need to read the rest of what had looked to be a several paragraphs long post, and as a matter of fact, he didn’t think he physically could.

Ten minutes. He had been outed for ten minutes already. He took in a shaky sigh, trying to calm his nerves before he gave himself a panic attack. What had he been doing ten minutes ago? He had just gotten food, smiling stupidly because he still thought that life was good, and Keith from football had joked around with him. And MacMillan had already told the world his most hidden secret like it was nothing.

_So he totally could have beaten you up there and then had he wanted to_ , his brain unhelpfully offered him, still apparently stuck on the Keith thing.

He quickly bent down to silence his phone, not quick enough to miss the series of question marks Chaz had sent him after being left on read on a message like that and left it there, forgotten, as he made his way towards his bed. He didn’t need every single person he knew to contact him and hope he could deny the accuse.

_The accuse_. His blood boiled in his veins as he sat down heavily on the bed, where barely three hours earlier he had been the happiest he had ever been in his life. He had known what MacMillan was going to do- hell, everyone could have guessed- but he was still more riled up than he had anticipated. How _dare_ he? How dare he treat it like it was some sort of black mark that made him unworthy of his titles? He would die before he read the whole post but he could guess what it was about, probably MacMillan expressing his concern that someone like _him_ was in the students' council as well as the football team, and how fucking dare he?

He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself, waiting for the panic attack to roll in. Unsurprisingly, nothing came.

He breathed out on a sob, hugging his arms around his ribcage as if trying to keep all of his turmoils from spilling everywhere on the floor. He would have preferred to feel fear if he was honest. He would have preferred to feel fear, and rage, and even a bit of panic and shock, because anything would have been better than the empty and hollow resignation that took over him, a sort of passive acceptance that left a bitter taste on the back of his throat. The thing he had fought all his life to keep hidden had been thrown away carelessly in an act of pure spite, and he could only stand there and wait for the consequences, knowing there was nothing he could do to fix it.

A soft tapping sound snapped him out it and he jumped to his feet, as tense as a violin string as if expecting someone to burst from his door and make him pay for just being himself. Instead, the tapping sounded again, and when he turned to its source he couldn’t help the surprised gasp that left him. There, outside of the window, clung to the windowsill, was Klaus. The reason why he had decided to put himself in danger and accept the possibility of MacMillan using his own identity against him. The reason why he was now a trembling mess, shaken beyond belief, wondering what he was doing to do with his life now.

The weight on his chest turned, changing position as if disturbed. He didn’t even need to reach the window to know that he had been worth it and that he would do it again for him.

“Klaus!” he half-hissed, as if scared that someone was going to hear him and hunt him down. He hurried to the window and opened it, pulling his boyfriend inside from his armpits, “What are you _doing_?”

“Oh you know, just some free climbing,” Klaus heaved, evidently tired from climbing up the two floors to reach Dave, “It is arm day, from what I’ve heard.”

It was obvious he was trying to loosen up the tension, but the way he was holding himself up, tense and uncertain, eyes jumping around Dave’s face as if unsure he was welcome in his room, betrayed him. And when Dave realized that the reason Klaus had gone out of his way and climbed the building instead of just taking the stairs was to avoid being seen seeking him out after what just happened he felt himself crumble, like a dam breaking.

“Are you okay?” his boyfriend asked, shoulders shaking with each intake of breath, neutral tone hiding his concern in what he had learned was his way of keeping himself back from reaching for him, letting him have his space if needed. He could almost picture him, sitting in his room, the fairy lights caressing his skin, before stumbling across that damned Facebook post, deciding to just drop everything and start running towards Dave, ready to climb literal buildings for him. His knees buckled under his weight, and he realized he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

He let himself fall forward, softly enough so that his boyfriend could catch him, but still sudden enough that Klaus gasped in surprise, arms grasping their way around his back to hold him as close as possible, as if he hadn’t actually expected him to reach out for his touch, and had only been preparing for him to pull away in his own panic. Dave just shuffled closer, hiding his face in Klaus’s neck and breathing in his familiar scent, uncaring of how pathetic he probably looked in that moment.

“It’s going to be okay,” Klaus whispered, running his hand through his curls in soothing motions that did nothing to hide how fiercely protective he seemed to be. His hold on Dave was almost spasm-like and he was still breathing raggedly from his run. Dave only nuzzled closer to his neck, loving the way his lungs filled with air against his own, pretending that his eyes weren’t threatening to overflow with tears, “I’m going to kill him.”

Dave couldn’t help but snort at that. He found it pretty peculiar that Klaus hadn’t even needed to ask if he had known what MacMillan had done before rushing to comfort his boyfriend. He only had to take one look at him to know the damage had been done. He must really look like shit.

“Vanya said she was going to contact the admins and ask them to take down the post,” Klaus tried, filling the silence that had fallen over them like a too-heavy blanket. A hand brushed through his hair again, and Dave found himself seeking out that simple touch like a starving man, “I would have done it myself, but…”

“Free climbing,” Dave filled in for him, and couldn’t help smiling against Klaus’s neck. He really didn’t deserve his boyfriend, and as much as his current predicament was pushing with all of itself to try and make him double guess himself about their whole relationship he only loved him more right then.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend breathed out, hands still around him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if not sure of what he should be doing next, but Dave allowed himself to be selfish for another couple of seconds, remaining pressed against him, “I don’t think I’m the only one that would love to have a chat with that guy, though. There wasn’t a single comment that wasn’t calling him out for being a total dick, and that’s a euphemism,” something spiky and uncomfortable rumbled around Dave’s stomach, and he shifted against Klaus. He wasn’t ready to hear about the consequences that stunt had caused around the university, not yet, “I think some of them were written by your friends in the council, too-“

Dave leaned back on his heels, peeling himself completely from Klaus and trying not to look away, failing miserably. It wasn’t Klaus’s fault, nothing of it was, he just wasn’t ready to take any of that into consideration yet. His boyfriend didn’t seem to read between the lines, though, looking completely star-struck, hands whirling in front of his stomach.

“Sorry,” he chocked out, sounding as desperate as Dave felt, and his heart ached with how much he loved that boy, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be okay,” Dave reassured him, hating to see him so unsure of himself. Each word he rasped out was a struggle, but he couldn’t let Klaus think he was anyway at fault, “You did nothing wrong, I’m just- I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed, running a hand over his face, not caring that Klaus could clearly see the tears that were now spilling over his cheeks, “I don’t even want to think about it, for now. I don’t think I have the strength to.”

His boyfriend nodded, his glistering eyes looking still unsure of what he should be doing, “Do you want me to go?”

There was something about that question that was the one straw that broke the camel’s back for Dave. Klaus’s tone could only be described as _raw_ , with so many emotions he was still holding back in favour of letting Dave pick his own pace, of giving him the space necessary to figure things out without feeling crowded by the reminder that things were not how they used to be, and they would never be again, and Dave just snapped.

Like a man dying of thirst reaching out for a mirage, he grabbed the back of Klaus’s neck, crushing their mouths together with a desperation he struggled to recognize as his own. His boyfriend made a soft, surprised sound against his mouth, evidently not having expected that kind of reaction from him, then softly reciprocated the kiss, letting Dave lead it and seek out whatever comfort he needed.

Klaus wasn’t much shorter than him, they had maybe an inch or two of height difference, it was his spindly and often slouched posture that made him look tinier, as well as being generally skinny, and right then Dave took advantage of that difference, grabbing fists on the back of Klaus’s jacket and pulling him closer to him, hoping to drown himself and his worries into his skin. Maybe if he burrowed himself close enough to him all of the day’s events would simply disappear.

When his kisses became a tad too desperate and his hands started shaking with the effort of keeping Klaus close, his boyfriend put a hand on his jaw, effortlessly pushing him away, worried eyes searching his face, “Dave-“

“Please don’t go,” he found himself begging, and couldn’t find it within himself to be ashamed of it. This was probably his lowest moment ever, and the most vulnerable he had ever been, and he was certain he wasn’t going to fight it without Klaus.

“I won’t,” Klaus reassured him. Both of his hands were now around Dave’s face, his kiss-swollen lips and ruffled hair a reminder of how much Dave needed him right now, “It’s okay, I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

Dave nodded, feeling numb and dazed. Then his eyes fell again to Klaus’s lips and he felt a pang of pain in his gut, “I’m sorry for-“ he vaguely nodded in his direction, feeling ashamed for his lack of control. Being shaken by what had happened was one thing, kissing Klaus like that without even stopping to think if it was welcome was another, completely unjustifiable thing. He felt disgusting, and for more than one reason.

Klaus seemed to sense his inner turmoil because he shut it up with a soft kiss on the corner of his lips that made an unmistakable chocking sound escape his throat, “It’s going to be okay,” he reassured him, soft eyes that made him look like a loving mother hen. He then patted Dave’s cheek, resolutely, and took the reins of the situation that would have one hundred per cent fallen apart hadn’t he been there, “How about you go wash up? I’m sure you’re tired.”

As a matter of fact, Dave was so tired he didn’t even manage to put up a fight with that. Numbly, he nodded, feeling as if he was having an out of body experience, some sort of nightmare he was eventually going to shake himself awake from, and did as he was told. 

Part of him was annoyed at himself for bothering Klaus so much, dragging him away from his house to take care of the wreck that he was, and firmly believed that he could handle it on his own, but one accidental look at himself in the mirror, while he was undressing for his shower, reminded him that he wasn’t fooling anyone; he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, eyes puffy and red, his skin an ugly pale colour, and everything about him screamed _need comfort, need Klaus_. Throwing his shirt in the general direction of the counter with a bit too much force, he decided he would rather drown his sorrows in the scolding water of the shower than be left alone with them for a second longer. He’d have to figure out how to look less pathetic once he was done.

* * *

What felt like an eternity later Dave finally emerged from the bathroom, rose-cheeked, with soft hair, and more refreshed than before- though he didn’t feel like it. Klaus looked up from his phone when he heard the door open, and smiled that reassuring soft smile of his he seemed to have decided was his go-to expression for the night from his curled up position on his bed.

While he had been showering, Klaus seemed to have decided to make a nest out of his bed. All of the covers were thrown askew, enough to make space for his cat-like pose, and his pillows were arranged in what to an inexpert eye looked like a vaguely drawn summoning circle. His boyfriend seemed to feel his bemusement because he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “Sorry, I got bored,” he pushed a pillow aside, acting as if it hadn’t looked thoroughly arranged, “That and everything here smells of you and I just kind of, you know… went crazy, went stupid.”

Dave chuckled at the sight and his odd justification, wanting nothing more than to join his boyfriend in that nest of pillows and blankets and fall asleep with him, ignoring the world. Klaus seemed to somehow read his mind because, without taking his eyes off of him, he unfurled his long legs, stretching on his- _his_ \- bed, and opened his arms in a clear invitation to lie down with it. Dave didn’t think twice about it.

Turning off all the lights and making sure the door was locked with a bit too obsessive check, he braced himself against the mattress, trying to lay down without crushing Klaus with his weight, and when he did he slid right along Klaus’s neck, illuminated by the pale light of the street lamps coming through his blinds. His arms were tucked against his chest, preferring to be embraced rather than embrace, and though he tried not to he found himself pressed over Klaus’s supine figure, letting all most of his weight fall on his side, but not enough to prevent his boyfriend from breathing out at the sudden pressure.

He went to rearrange himself, worrying that he was crushing Klaus, but before he could his boyfriend reached for something around his waist and draped a blanket over them. He then curled his arms around him, draping his leg over one of Dave’s as he did, and when one of his hand found its way in his curls, caressing his scalp in soothing motions, Dave let out a long sigh, finally feeling safe.

Klaus probably shared the sentiment, if the soft kiss he left on his forehead was anything to go by. He ran one hand up and down his back, with a light pressure that made him melt in the touch and let himself just exist for a moment, pressed up against him.

He fought with himself to find something to say for a few seconds, feeling horribly guilty for trapping Klaus with him when he was brooding like this, but before he could beat himself up any longer over it his boyfriend spoke up for him, taking charge out the situation once more.

“You don’t have to be okay right now,” his voice was soft but calculated, as if he already knew what he wanted to say and had planned it out while he was under the shower, and the thought made Dave crack a tiny smile in fondness, “Everything will pan out just fine, and you’ll be alright again, but you don’t have to feel guilty for not being okay now.”

It was almost terrifying how well Klaus knew him. He hadn’t even voiced his concerns out loud but somehow the boy had already read between the lines of his misery, “I don’t want to be a burden-“

“You aren’t,” Klaus cut off his hoarse reply, not allowing him to wallow any longer. As if wanting to reinforce the point he smothered Dave’s head under his chin, like a mother bird protecting its young during the cold weather and- he really needed to stop it already with the mother-child metaphors, they were _dating_ for heaven’s sake, “You’re not inconveniencing me by not being alright. I’m here because I want to, because I want to take care of you, because I-“

He stopped himself from finishing his sentence, preferring to trail off in silence. Dave was glad for it; if they got around to actually giving a name for what they had he would rather they did it in a more serene moment, without the pressure and pain he was currently feeling. Still, he kissed the underside of Klaus’s jaw, showing him his understanding, and went back to trying to drown his worried against his skin.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, their hold on each other moving from desperate to comforting until Dave felt almost drunk on the warmth emanating from Klaus’s body. He was clearly falling asleep, his breath evening out under his cheek, and the realization that he was going to spend the night cuddled with his boyfriend made a giddy spark poke its head around his heart, so ecstatic that not even the current situation could kill it.

“I,” he found himself saying, trying to catch Klaus before he fell asleep. He didn’t want to drag the conversation any longer than he needed, and he certainly wasn’t counting on opening it again the next morning. He was all down for emotional talks and confessing each other’s feelings, but not like this, “I’m scared, Klaus.”

Klaus gave him a squeeze of acknowledgement, showing him that he was listening, and his now still hands showed that he was also paying close attention.

“Not of MacMillan, it’s not that,” he clarified, pressing even closer to his boyfriend. One thing was talking about something that made him wildly uncomfortable to just think about, another was looking someone he loved in the eye while doing so. Part of him had almost hoped that Klaus had fallen asleep and wouldn’t hear him but here he was, “I’m just- it’s like part of me died, you know? One part died, and the other replaced it, and I have no idea who he is.”

Klaus was still silent, giving him time to elaborate his mess of feelings, and of that Dave was grateful. With a shaky intake of breath, he rushed out, “I have been pretending for my entire life, suppressing that part of me that others didn’t want to see, and now that it was forced out I have no idea how to handle it,” his boyfriend’s pulse against his cheek was a comforting lullaby to his ears, and he let himself be calmed by it, “I have been pretending for so long I have no idea who my real self actually is or acts like."

He was certain he had made absolutely no sense in his ramble, but Klaus seemed to think otherwise. His hands picked up where they had left, caressing Dave’s back with two feather-light fingers, and breathed out hard enough to make his boyfriend move along his chest, “Well, I do, and let me tell you, he’s fantastic,” he could hear Klaus’s smile in his voice, and it was like music to his ears, “Polite, sensitive, strong, great sense of humour, and, oh, such a wonderful kisser.”

Here Dave couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling his face burn with the praise. He loved that Klaus always managed to make him smile, regardless of the situation. He also loved that he knew exactly what to say to make him feel better, and he proved to be able to do so at that moment, “You might not know who he is, but I do, and I can introduce you to him.”

And wasn’t that just Klaus had been doing from day one, helping his skittish closeted self finally be free, with someone who not only was like him but that he also loved with all of his heart?

“I can’t wait,” Dave decided to reply, preferring to keep the tornado of devotion and raw affection he felt for Klaus on the tip of his tongue. As he had said, there was a time and place for everything, and being emotionally vulnerable after being forcefully outed wasn’t it.

Kissing the side of Klaus’s throat, he settled himself back against him, just barely containing a full-body shiver when the boy snuggled him closer to him, ready to face the next day together. With the boy of his dreams with him, and with his pillows and covers that now smelled of them both, he fell in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Once again, he was pulled out of his happy place of cosiness by someone knocking at his dorm door. It was starting to become too much of a habit, he mused, barely registering the sound as he still asleep brain whirred to life.

The knocking stopped for a second, and Dave let himself fall back against the warm body against his chest, hoping that whoever was on the other side of the door had decided to leave him be. As luck had it, the damned noise started back up again immediately, and he groaned against his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“For fuck’s sake,” he quite uncharacteristically swore, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Six-thirty am. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to be killed on spot, that was for sure, “Is nothing sacred anymore?”

The bundle of blankets that was his boyfriend groaned in annoyance, muffling the sound against Dave’s arm, which he was snuggling against, “Make that stop.” 

The plea would have been more effective if Klaus hadn’t immediately tried to pull Dave back against towards him, obviously preferring to sleep the noise away. As much as Dave wanted to, the painful reminder of what that day held for him made him untangle himself from the soft embrace of his boyfriend, all of his nerves already on edge, “Alright, I’ll get it.”

Not even bothering to check if he was presentable- which he most definitely wasn’t, considering he had been spooning his gay boyfriend until two seconds before- he made his way to the door, opening it without preambles.

Something like acceptance had settled into his chest and he found himself to just wanting to get this day over with, face everyone who just realized he had been closeted for all his life, have them yell at him or do whatever copying mechanism of choice they had to go through, then go directly back to sleep, preferably with Klaus. The mortifying ordeal of being known, and all that.

Alas, he definitely didn’t expect who was standing at his door, and he couldn’t help but frown, confused, “Chaz?”

His friend looked like he was about to unconsciously flinch but sheepishly held himself back from doing so. Dave didn’t hold it against him- after all, he had expected him to not speak to him again after everything that had happened the prior day.

“Heya, Katz. Slept well?”

Now Dave did frown. Not angrily, but still enough to show his disapproval. Chaz did flinch this time, murmuring something under his breath that sounded like an insult at himself.

“Yeah, I have no clue why I said that,” he admitted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His curly hair was perfectly styled as usual, and although his white shirt was unbuttoned just the right way to show a glimpse of the dark skin underneath it was still a sharp contrast to Dave, with his messy hair, messy clothes, and even messier life, “Sorry, it’s- it’s been a day."

“Don’t tell me,” Dave found himself saying, trying to ease the obvious tension between the two. He couldn’t let himself hope that Chaz was still his friend, but he sure still cared for him. Nevertheless, he didn’t let himself relax around the guy: he still hadn’t made a comment on the news about his best friend, and he needed to assess the situation before deciding what to do with Chaz.

Chaz fidgeted under his gaze, his eyes jumping around maniacally and never once setting on him. It was obvious he wanted to be anywhere but there to have that conversation and Dave, just woken up and with a day of probable homophobic comments ahead of him, truly couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad for him, “So… you’re gay.”

He frowned again, tilting his head to the side for good measure. Sure, that was one way to put it, but what even was he supposed to reply to that? _Oh, yeah, as a matter of fact, I am, thank you for noticing, see you at practice_ , like, what?

Chaz seemed to sense his silent judgment because he huffed, exasperation taking place of his uneasiness and making him unclench his arms, “Come on, you know I was never good with words,” he scoffed, then tried to push Dave back to enter the room, probably to have a more extensive embarrassing conversation than the one they were having.

Before he could stop him, his mind jumping to Klaus still sleeping in his bed and how that might look to Chaz, his friend let his gaze roam around his room as if looking for something in particular, and when they landed on the bed his eyes widened in shock. He jumped back- literally, he looked like he was doing the cha cha real smooth for a second- and his face coloured like a fire truck. Dave wasn’t really sure what he had been expecting to find in his room but apparently, a boy, a confirmation of the fact that his friend was not as heterosexual as he was sure he was, wasn’t it.

Chaz rubbed at his neck sheepishly, now back on the threshold, and had the decency to look bashful, “I guess I was right about Hargreeves, wasn’t I?” he giggled, obviously trying to ease the tension, but Dave, still strongly on edge, just waiting for the shoe to drop and his friend to snap, was not having it.

“Chaz.”

“I’m assuming he’s the one responsible for, y’know…” he nodded towards him in that bro-y way of his, pointing at his own throat, and Dave had to hold himself back from reaching up a hand to cover the hickey that he was sure Klaus had left there the prior day. One part of him felt oddly proud of it, and he hoped that it would make straight guys on campus uncomfortable as hell, but the other more anxious part of him was terrified of what others might think and was already planning to ask Allison to cover it up with makeup. Surely not everyone would harmlessly joke about it like Chaz had tried to. Speaking of which-

“Chaz, why are you here?"

His friend stopped fidgeting and instead looked straight at him; he made eye contact, maintaining it, and swallowed once to ease off his nerves. Dave almost bolted right there and then.

He had no idea what Chaz thought of him after MacMillan’s little stunt. Sure, Chaz had been his friend since kindergarten, and in the few occasions he saw him react to someone being gay he had been nothing but accepting, even jumping in to defend Klaus when one of their teammates had made a snarky comment about him, but this was different. This was _Dave_ being gay, one of the guys he shared a locker room with three times a week. He really didn’t think it was completely impossible that Chaz just decided to cut all ties with him and never speak to him again.

“I just wanted to say,” Chaz began, his voice doing something wobbly that sounded wrong and unnatural to Dave’s ears, “If you need to beat up that MacMillan son of a bitch, I’m in.”

He sniffed, loudly, and pointedly looked at Dave’s door like it was the most interesting thing in existence. Dave would have expected him to just outright start waxing poetry about the wood it was made of, for how intense his gaze was.

That’s another thing he hadn’t expected.

“Oh,” he decided to say, trying to elaborate that information. He shifted his weight, taking a better look at Chaz. His friend just kept staring at the door.

Chaz didn’t hate him. He was still there, evidently fighting with his own feelings of uneasiness, and offering his support to Dave.

He was speechless.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice lifting up at the end in a way that made the sentence sound like a question. Chaz seemed to notice because he whipped his head back towards him, sizing him up with an unfamiliarly close eye. It was slightly unnerving.

Then, the slightly unnerving became fully unnerving when Chaz asked, softly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dave would have confused the question for a request for answers, an expression of hurt for having been left out of something that could have damaged him, if he hadn’t known who Chaz was as a person, and how tentative his tone was. That wasn’t a question for himself, but for Dave: _why didn’t you feel safe enough with me to tell me?_

“It’s, complicated,” Dave settled on, leaning part of his weight against the door. It wasn’t a lie, per se, but a simplification. Deciding that Chaz deserved a proper answer he continued, “I was too deep into the lie to just tell you, and I was afraid of what everyone would have thought of me.”

Chaz’s face did something odd then, until it settled on a heartbroken expression, “Dave, I-“ he fought with his own words, as he had said he wasn’t good with them. Just the fact that he was allowing himself to go through the turmoil of having to talk through his feelings was enough of a proof that he really did care for Dave, and he felt like an asshole for even doubting it, “Have I done something that made you scared to tell me? I didn’t-“

“No, no no,” Dave rushed to reassure him, and Chaz visibly breathed out in relief, “It wasn’t you, Chaz, I swear, I just-“ he sighed, looking down the hallway quickly, to make sure nobody was eavesdropping into the conversation. Being outed was one thing, acting like a chick flick movie was another, “I never told _anyone_ , and I had reached a point where I thought I never would.”

“Oh,” Chaz breathed out, then his eyes widened in realization, no doubt connecting Dave’s admission with the magnitude of what MacMillan had done, “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”

They were both silent for a while, trying to figure out what else to say. Dave kind of just wanted the conversation to be over, exhausted beyond belief of the emotional vulnerability he had just put himself through and really not looking forward the rest of the day, but it was obvious Chaz had other ideas. 

After a second of hesitation, Chaz leaned forward, wrapping an arm around Dave’s frame and patting his shoulder roughly with the other. It was the most bro-y hug he had ever gotten, no doubt an imitation of the usual pats of acknowledgement he reserved for his teammates, but with a soft side to it that couldn’t hide its meaning.

“I’m proud of you, bro,” Chaz said when he pulled back, and Dave prayed to god that he couldn’t see the tears that were gathering in his eyes. So much for chick flicks.

“Hey, at least one of us is,” he joked, immediately earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He took it gratefully, glad to be back on normal terms with his best friend.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” Chaz was back to his normal self, slightly bouncing on his steps as he started walking down the hallway, “Call me if you stumble across the asshole, I was serious when I said I wanted to beat him up.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Dave waved him off, allowing himself to finally smile. Maybe the day wasn’t going to be too bad. 

The thought of how many other conversations like the one he just had were awaiting for him was almost enough to make him crawl back into bed and stay there until everything had boiled over. It was only the curious eyes of Klaus looking up at him from between the covers, messy hair and lids heavy with sleep, that reminded him that whatever he had to face, it was one hundred per cent worth it.

“Was it Chaz?” Klaus asked as Dave sat down heavily on the bed, enough to make it bounce. Although he looked like he wanted nothing more than curl up under the blankets and keep sleeping, his boyfriend sat up with him, looking as attentive as anyone who had just woken up could, and the meaning behind his effort wasn’t lost on Dave: whatever he had to face, Klaus would face it with him.

“Yeah, he…” he coughed, feeling vulnerable once more. He sensed Klaus shift until he was behind him, and although he expected it he still tensed when he felt his arms sneak around his torso to hug him. Before his boyfriend could pull back he grabbed one of his hands, pulling him towards him as an invite to keep going, “He said he’s proud of me.”

He would have been ashamed by how his voice wobbled on the words but knew better than to shy away from Klaus. His boyfriend made an approving sound in the back of his throat, finally pulling himself closer to Dave’s back until he could kiss the back of his neck, just behind his ear. If Dave’s head involuntarily tilted to the side like the weak, weak man he was, that was between the two of them.

“As I am,” Klaus’s voice was rough with sleep, and it did nothing to alleviate the painful pressure Dave felt around his heart. He didn’t need to explain himself, once again, because his boyfriend just squeezed him from behind, a hug strong enough to melt away the grasp his anxiety had on him, “Come on, let’s get this bread, boy.”

* * *

The metaphorical bread turned out to be much easier to get than Dave originally thought. From the moment they stepped out of the room together, and until they had to go separate ways to their respective classes, Klaus didn’t leave Dave’s side. There was a moment of hesitation, just before they opened the door, where his boyfriend asked him in clear terms if he was ready to be seen out in the real world with another boy, once again trying to protect him in any capacity he could, offering to climb back the way he had gotten in the previous night, and Dave was quick to kiss the doubt off of Klaus’s face. It was too late to go back now, and he certainly wasn’t going to spare straight people’s feelings by making the transition any comfortable for them.

All in all, he had to admit he had expected a more negative reaction from his fellow peers. Word seemed to travel fast in the small college, and he just had to take a look at passerby's to know that MacMillan’s little stunt hadn’t gone unnoticed. Many gave him a nod of acknowledgement, which would have been normal if he had, you know, _known_ those people, while others even went as far as stopping by him to express their support for him.

“Well that was weird,” Klaus commented when the umpteenth white girl stopped them on the hallway, announcing in clear and unnecessarily loud terms that he supported them both and she was 100% cool with them being homosexual (she literally said that, homosexual and all), “Why did she include me in her little speech? I have been out all my life.”

“No idea,” Dave muttered. He had initially thought that showing proper affection towards Klaus might have been a bad idea, but everyone already seemed to know they were an item now, so he figured he really had no reason to not pull his hand out of his pocket and let his arm swing more naturally, brushing against Klaus’s hand with every step. His boyfriend noticed and threw him a mock-scandalized look.

“David!” he exclaimed, hand on his heart with an exaggeratedly shocked expression on his face, “A boy? Touching another boy? In my good Christian neighbourhood?”

Dave chocked on a laugh, not wanting to attract any more attention to them. He compensated by lifting a hand to playfully ruffle his boyfriend’s hair, “It’s more likely than you think.”

One memorable encounter, and one that truly surprised Dave, took place just outside of his anthropology class, once he had to part ways with Klaus. He tried not to let it show but he felt oddly vulnerable there, so out in the open in more ways than another. That was until he saw her approach, and he felt even the more vulnerable.

“Hey, Dave,” none other than Kayla said, one of the university’s cheerleaders, and Dave visibly cringed, immediately trying to play it off as him getting something in his eye. You see, girls usually left Dave alone, either because he just seemed plain uninteresting or because their hindbrains somehow sensed he wasn’t a player for their team, but this one girl, in particular, seemed to have bypassed both barriers and decide that it was her scope in life to try to get a date with her.

Now, it might sound like it was entirely her fault for trying to pressure Dave into going out with her but see, Kayla hadn't known Dave was gay. He _couldn't_ tell her that he was gay, so he had awkwardly tried to avoid her, only somehow making her more interested in him, as well as having their team gossip about the two of them, and- well, it wasn’t exactly a nice situation. And this current situation wasn’t panning out to be much nicer.

“Hi,” he replied sheepishly, brushing a non-existent grain of dust from his eye. He figured she wanted some explanation or at the very least an apology for making her waste an entire two months behind his gay ass, and he really couldn’t blame her. 

“I,” Kayla cleared her throat, whiting her hands together as if nervous, “I just wanted to apologize.”

_Wait_ , _what_ , Dave thought.

“Wait, what?” Dave said out loud, and the girl let out a soft breath of a laugh.

“It was highly inappropriate of me to hit on you,” her voice was quiet, and it was obvious she was battling through some emotional vulnerability of her own in saying this, “I should have realized that something was off but I just pushed more and I’m sorry, that was so shitty of me.”

“No, it’s okay,” he reassured her, marvelling at her bravery for admitting something like that. He was more of an _I’m going to keep all of my emotions right here then one day I’ll die_ , kind of guy, so he admired that skill in other people, “It wasn’t your fault, and I should have given you a heads up.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she shook her head, determined to make things right, “You were pressured by the institutionalized homophobia of the modern western society into trying to adhere to heteronormative standards of what is considered acceptable and I profited off of that oppression too blinded by my own privilege to notice, and I’m sorry.”

Dave blinked a couple of times, stunned by all of those words. She sounded like his therapist.

“I, uh, read a couple of Tumblr posts last night…” she shifted her weight, sheepish.

“Ah.” 

Dave was about to reassure her once more that he really didn’t hold her accountable for what she did, and that he never did, but his gaze was momentarily captured by a very familiar sight, just down the hallway. Klaus had just fished his class and was heading towards his next one, steps as light and carefree as usual, unaware of Dave’s gaze on him. He somehow looked just more beautiful, something the still visible bruise on his face couldn’t hide, and Dave swallowed thickly, his brain unhelpfully providing him with the memory of how soft his lips had been on his neck that morning.

Kayla followed his line of sight, and then turned towards him with a knowing smile on her lips, “See, just the fact that you never looked at me like that should have been enough of an indicator.”

Dave blushed furiously, embarrassed to have been caught, “I guess this is a typical case of _it’s not you, it’s me_.”

The girl laughed at his joke, evidently not remotely offended by his distraction, “I guess it is,” she went to go back to her group of friends but she seemed to remember something at the last moment, “Oh just so you know, us cheerleaders made a pact and tried to include as many other girls that we can that nobody from MacMillan’s little gang is ever going to score a date with any of us.”

Dave had to laugh at that, a free and legitimate thing that unclenched his muscles and made him finally relax under Kayla’s gaze, “Damn, you cheerleaders are ruthless.”

“Anything to fight toxic masculinity,” the girls threw him a peace sign, before winking at him amiably and disappearing towards her friends. Dave made a mental note to mention her to Chaz. Who knew, maybe he could find a way to thank them both…

* * *

The rest of the day went considerably smoothly, and although Dave didn’t see Klaus for a couple of classes he felt more and more relaxed as it went on. MacMillan and his broken nose were nowhere to be found, everyone that acknowledged the whole deal was nothing but supportive of him, and he met up with Vanya during history of economics, so he felt as safe as he could in a situation like that.

Once lunchtime rolled around and they had to head for the cafeteria, though, that was when his anxiety kicked back in. He hadn’t seen or heard from his football buddies all day- apart from Chaz of course, who kept sending him quick texts along the lines of _everything still ok?_ and _haven’t you seen MacMillan around yet I really wanna beat his ass_ \- and he was positive that they were going to be sitting at their usual table, but… well… was he still welcome to sit there?

Vanya seemed to sense his jittery mood, throwing reassuring looks every once in a while as they made their way to the cafeteria, “Whatever the problem may be, you can sit with us, you know that?” she told him with that over soft voice of hers as they stepped towards the Russian lady handing out portions of steaming mashed potatoes, both of them giving her a nod as a way of saying hello in automatic, “Diego would definitely jump up the moment someone tried to be an ass with you, and Luther doesn’t even need to say anything to make people uneasy about approaching our table.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, agreeing with the sentiment, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Once he got his food on auto-pilot, completely unaware of what was now on his tray, he tentatively made his way towards his usual table as Vanya made hers to that of her siblings. As expected, all of his teammates were already sitting down, chatting quietly to themselves. Chaz was there too, seeming to be having a very intense conversation with Rivers, and as he got closer it seemed it was about the semantics of mashed potatoes.

As expected, everyone fell silent once he stopped in front of the table.

He didn’t say anything, preferring to just stand there, ready to take whatever his teammates decided to throw against him. If they decided that they were done, that they just couldn’t go on pretending that someone who had shared their locker room with them for the past couple of years hadn’t always been gay, then he really couldn’t blame them. He hated it and hated himself for trying to rationalize something that had nothing rational about it, but he was just _so_ tired.

They seemed to sense that he wasn’t going to talk first because they all quietly and quite unsubtly avoided his gaze. Some were playing around with their potatoes, some were staring off into nothing, and the only one who seemed to have had any reaction to his presence was Chaz, who was sizing all of their friends up with an increasingly murderous gaze, no doubt waiting for the shoe to drop just like Dave was. 

Except that it never did. Nobody yelled at him, nobody told him they were uncomfortable, nobody shouted that he was no longer welcome there. Somehow, the silence was much worse, and Dave couldn’t stand it anymore.

Just as he was about to, well, he wasn’t really sure what, exactly, he was going to do, but whatever it was he needed to get away from there _,_ someone gently touched his elbow, grounding him to the there and then and taking his mind back from the spiral of anxiety it had already fucked off into, and he turned to see Vanya’s soft eyes.

“Come on, we saved a spot for you.”

He didn’t dare to take a second look at those who he wasn’t certain he was still allowed to call friends, letting himself be led towards the Hargreeves' table. He also didn’t dare to speak, terrified that he would only get chocked up. He had planned to lose friends during his coming out, but he hadn’t actually prepared for it, and god it _hurt_.

“Do you need me to beat anyone up?” Diego asked him as soon as he sat down, sensing his mood. They manoeuvred him until he was sitting with Diego on his left, and Luther opposite of his brother, and it took him a moment to realize they were trying to protect him from anyone who decided to start anything with him, but when he did he felt incredibly touched, “Cause I will, just point me the guy and you can consider him done for.”

Had it been any other person Dave would have chuckled at the obvious attempt at comic relief, but this was Diego, and he knew for a fact he was one hundred per cent serious.

Still chocked up, Dave simply shook his head, picking at his food with boredom.

“Don’t take it personally, they’ll come around,” Vanya reassured him, still with that soft look of hers. He had a feeling he was compensating the lack of physical contact with meaningful glances, for which he was glad for; he was still too emotionally vulnerable to be comforted with hugs and gentle touches that didn’t come from Klaus, “People don’t like change, and this is a big one for them. I’m sure they don’t hate you, they just have to get used to it.”

Dave didn’t dare let himself hope, but he supposed she wasn’t wrong. He guessed only time would say if his friends were still such, or if the revelation was just too much for them. What was sure was that he really didn’t want to stick around for the verdict, preferring to let them handle it alone.

He contemplated moving to the other side of the table and hiding between Allison and Luther’s enormous shoulders to take a nap and be away from everything and everyone for a while when the co-owner of his last gay brain cell finally showed up, food in hand and a particularly dishevelled adoptive brother to his side.

“Sorry for the delay, we had a bit of a ruffle,” Klaus chirped cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the voices in the cafeteria that had suspiciously lowered the second he entered, and started off again with a symphony of whispers when he made his way towards Dave. Dave, on his part, only smiled up at him as Diego stood up to make space for him.

“Please tell me you didn’t beat up anyone,” Allison sighed, taking one look at Ben’s messy clothes and hair.

“I didn’t, only because Klaus held me back,” Ben mumbled, and the oxymoron of him being associated with beating someone up was too much for Dave’s brain to make sense of. That had been a wild couple of days, he needed to sleep them off for at least a week.

“We stumbled across MacMillan as we came here,” Klaus explained, loose limbs invading Dave’s personal space like a lazy cat. Everyone tenses at the mention of the name and he held his hands up, placating them, “He was a _wreck_ , my dudes. His nose will be bent for life, that’s for sure, and as soon as he saw me he skipped it.”

Diego whistled, before elbowing Dave’s side (he couldn’t do it directly since Klaus was between them, so he just asked his brother to do it for him), “Sounds like your threats worked.”

Dave’s face flushed, having forgotten the very righteous way he had told MacMillan in clear terms to steer away from his boyfriend, and that seemed to spark Vanya and Allison’s curiosity as they asked him to _explain right now_.

After a couple of minutes, with the chatty Hargreeves keeping him company, Dave started to feel like himself again. Maybe Vanya was right, it was going to be okay, it only took time, but as he sat there, Ben telling one of his stories about some trouble he had Klaus had gotten himself into, Diego asking for more details, Vanya and Allison listening captured, Luther half-heartedly scolding them, and with his boyfriend’s hand in his under the table, he felt like his life was finally coming together.

He felt it even more when he spotted a familiar figure making his way towards their table, tray in hand and a little scowl of nervousness on his face. The chatting at the table quieted down when he stopped right in front of them, and he would have laughed at how defensive everyone looked if he hadn’t known it was all for him.

“Uh,” Chaz scratched the side of his head, tray in hand, “May I sit here?”

Everyone immediately relaxed, scooting around until Chaz could sit along with them, and Dave’s heart swelled with affection for everyone at the table. He could get used to it, this new normality.

“Hargreeves, Dave,” Chaz nodded quite comically at each of them until his eyes settled on Klaus, and his tone turned serious, almost solemn, “Dave’s boyfriend.”

Klaus beamed at him, letting his head tilt against Dave’s shoulder, and Dave didn’t miss the hidden meaning behind that acknowledgement. _I might not understand you fully but this is someone you love and I respect that_.

“So why did you decide to come to the gay side?” Dave asked, letting himself joke for once. Like hell he was going to leave the gay jokes all to the homophobes.

“The guys are being unreasonable, and I told them I will talk to them when they stop being children,” he stuffed his face with bread and mashed potatoes like some kind of annoyed duck, shaking his head almost comically, “I don’t have the time to deal with that kind of misinformation and internalized homophobia, and neither do you. They’ll come around, and if they don’t then you’re better off without them.”

Klaus’s nose scrunched up at the term, mouthing _internalized homophobia?_ at Vanya, who only shrugged in reply. Diego, on the other hand, inquired about it, curious as to why and how he, a jock, knew what that meant, and Chaz went off on a tangent that unhelpfully started with, _you see, I read this one article last night…_

Ben joined in the conversation, as did Luther, convinced that he had somehow read that same article as well, while Klaus preferred to stay out of it, lounging against Dave’s side like a lizard on a warm rock. Dave requited the touch, pushing back against him, and Klaus gave him the most relaxed and genuine of smiles.

He was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean this reads a lot like Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda what are you, a cop?
> 
> anyway lads, hope you enjoyed this very heavily self influenced mess of feelings! I hope it wasn’t too annoying in its length but I didn’t plan to write it as a multi chapter and I certainly wasn’t going to hold back on the Yearning
> 
> also apologies for the names for Dave’s buddies that I’m sure are familiar to everyone and their grandma since I see them appear in every tua fic. I’m just shit with names and decided to stick to those that seem to have been adopted as canon within the fandom. hope that too didn’t come off as annoying.
> 
> if you did enjoy this please do leave a review! I’m a greedy bitch when it comes to attention and lord knows I’m starving!
> 
> love you guys, see you next time I’m feeling particularly gay and decide to take it out on some fictional characters


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